


If the Sky Comes Falling Down

by Nebula5030



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (Clarissant and Gwaine's Sister are the same person), (Just borrowing one of Gawain's sisters from the legends lol), (Riiiight at the end though lol), (To Gwaine at least), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Title: I Throw Merlin and Gwaine Into a Video Game/D&D Dungeon and Hope Y'all Enjoy It, Arthurian Legends Remix, BAMF Gwaine, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Epic Bromance, Family Feels, Forgiveness, Found Family, Gen, Guilt, Gwaine Fest 2019, Gwaine Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Gwaine's Nobility Revealed, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Mentions of past family death, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mild medical care, Minor Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Gwaine (Merlin), Rescue Missions, Slight Irreverent Treatment of Your Local Dungeon Skeleton, Yule, mild language warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebula5030/pseuds/Nebula5030
Summary: Gwaine hasn’t seen his siblings in ten years.  After a fight between he and his sister, he left home, with no plans to ever return.But when Gwaine’s brother, Gareth, stumbles across their patrol in the middle of the night, Gwaine learns a horrible truth: that a sorceress from their mother’s past has abducted his sister and is holding her in a dungeon in which almost no one comes out alive, Canguin Rock.Armed with nothing but their determination, a sword, and a magical staff (and wasn’tthata surprise), Merlin and Gwaine set out for Canguin to rescue Gwaine’s sister and restore his family.And maybe right the wrongs Gwaine committed over a decade ago.
Relationships: Gwaine & Clarissant, Gwaine & Gareth, Gwaine & Gwaine's Sister (Merlin), Gwaine & Knights of the Round Table, Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 303
Collections: Gwaine Fest 2019: Holiday Exchange





	If the Sky Comes Falling Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fictionalinfinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalinfinity/gifts).



> A thank you to the mod for running this fest!
> 
> And a HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to [Lion_owl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl) for the beta read! YOU ROCK AND THANK YOU SO MUCH! 💖
> 
> This story is loosely, _loosely_ based off the Arthurian legend of Canguin Rock, but I have taken several liberties so don't expect to find the same story if you decide to go read that yourself lmao
> 
> ~
> 
> _Hey, brother_  
>  _Do you still believe in one another?_  
>  _Hey, sister_  
>  _Do you still believe in love, I wonder?_  
>  _Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you_  
>  _There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do_ — _Hey Brother,_ Avicii 

It was a calm night for King Arthur of Camelot and his patrol.

This was, unfortunately, an unusual occurrence, and it often felt as if, more often than not, a patrol simply _had_ to have something go wrong.

But, for now, it seemed like that wasn’t to be.

“- and _then,”_ Gwaine continued, jabbing his spoon in Elyan’s direction, “So we’re both up there, this bandit’s coming at me, murder in his eyes and looking enraged. I’ve got my sword out, ready to take him -”

Gwaine began laughing. “And suddenly this _squirrel_ comes _out of nowhere_ and lands on the bandit’s face and just starts clawing him. I swear, one moment it was just he and I, ready for battle, the next there’s this squirrel making this _horrible_ shrieking noise as it just goes feral on this man’s face -”

Percival was laughing, his mouth covered with a hand as he tried not to spit out his stew.

Merlin was no better. He was leaning back on his log and shaking in laughter, almost dumping his own portion of top of himself.

“Maybe it was dropped by an angel, maybe it was thrown there by a dryad. Hell, maybe a unicorn summoned it. I don’t know. Point is, he’s screaming bloody murder and I’m just standing there, wondering what the hell is happening and where this bloody squirrel came from -”

Arthur - who’d been mostly ignoring the story up until this point - suddenly jerked his head up. “Gwaine, stop talking.”

“Oh, come on. I know you don’t like my stories, but the others seem to be enjoying it -”

“Shush,” Arthur ordered.

But he wasn’t looking at Gwaine.

Arthur stood, slowly, his hand reaching for his sword at his side, and glancing around the forest with a look of concern.

Merlin looked at him, brow furled. “Arthur? Something wrong-?”

“Someone’s coming.”

Merlin and the knights were on their feet within a moment, turning the direction Arthur was looking.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready, and the knights followed suit, each of them scanning the surrounding forest.

But, sure enough, Merlin could hear something.

Rustling and rapid footfalls. And getting louder.

They all turned towards the sound. Merlin raised a hand -

A figure erupted into the clearing.

But not a bandit or a ruffian, no. Instead, it was a boy, who looked to be seventeen years old.

The boy stumbled back away from the patrol, his eyes wide in shock. He spotted Arthur’s raised sword, and his eyes widened further and he began to scramble away.

“Whoa, whoa,” Arthur started. He lowered his sword and held out a hand to the boy. “We mean you no harm.”

The boy stopped. But he still reminded Merlin of a spooked animal ready to run.

(Gwaine’s expression however, was that of _confusion,_ and he was looking over the boy with such scrutiny that he lowered his sword without even realizing it.)

The boy took in several labored breaths, rooted in place. But then he looked them over, and it was then he seemed to realize something, and he looked to Arthur again. “Are you knights?”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “I’m King Arthur of Camelot, and these are some of my men.”

The boy’s gaze flicked over them for a moment longer, his eyes still wide and terrified. He took in a shaky breath.

“M-my name is Gareth, my lord -” the boy introduced himself.

(Beside Merlin, Gwaine’s eyes widened in sudden realization. _“Oh, my gods,”_ he breathed.)

“- I-I need help. M-my sister, _please -”_

The boy suddenly swayed on his feet, his eyes losing focus and his expression growing lax.

He collapsed.

Several voices cried out in alarm.

But no one expected which voice was the loudest.

“Gareth? _Gareth?!”_ Gwaine shouted in a near panic, shoving his way past Percival to get to the boy’s side.

Merlin and Gwaine were to him first. Gwaine picked Gareth up from the ground, holding him upright and close to his chest.

Gwaine shook the boy, trying to wake him. “Gareth? _Gareth?”_

He looked up to Merlin, pure desperation flashing across his face. “What happened? What’s wrong with him?!”

“I’ll need to take a look,” Merlin said. He straightened and said, “Bring him closer to the fire.”

Gwaine did, carrying Gareth closer to the fire, before kneeling on the ground while still holding the boy. The rest of the patrol followed, but only hovered to the side and shifting while they watched, feeling like they should help but knowing only Merlin could be of use at that moment.

Merlin took his jacket off and rolled it into a bundle before placing it like a pillow at the top of his bedroll, and guided Gwaine to lay Gareth down on it. Merlin pressed his hand to Gareth’s forehead and stayed there for a moment. He then nodded to himself, before lowering his head and pressing an ear to Gareth’s chest, brow furled as he listened.

He sat up after a few moments. “He’s not running a fever, and his heartbeat and breathing are regular,” Merlin reported. Merlin picked up Gareth’s hand and pinched the skin on the back for a moment.

Merlin grimaced after he let go. “He’s _very_ dehydrated. We’ll need to get some water in him as soon as he wakes up.”

Gwaine nodded. “Anything else?”

For a few minutes, Merlin didn’t answer. He checked Gareth’s arms, his legs, his ribs. Gareth’s skin was pale and gaunt, with clear bags under his eyes, but as far as Gwaine could tell, he had no injuries beyond a couple scrapes and bruises.

Then Merlin sat up and shook his head. “I don’t think there’s anything else. He just seems exhausted. He probably found somewhere where he felt safe and then just gave out. If all goes well he should wake in a few hours.”

Gwaine nodded again, and he slumped in relief. He rubbed his hand over his face. “He’s not injured, then?”

“Minor scrapes and bruises, but that’s it.”

Arthur stepped forward. He said, “So we have to wait to find out what he needs help with.”

Merlin nodded. “Frankly, Arthur, we have no choice.”

Arthur let out a low breath. “Very well. We will wait, then. Elyan, you will take first watch tonight, then Leon will take second. I’ll take third.”

With “yes, sires,” from everyone, they patrol made themselves comfortable once more, but the lax mood of earlier was gone. The silence was tense, each of them filled with a sense of concern for the boy and the message he had been trying to give.

Gwaine didn’t move from his spot by Gareth, only watching him with his brow furled in thought and his mouth in a frown.

Arthur was the one to break the silence. His eyes narrowed, and he looked over Gwaine. “Sir Gwaine,” he started. His tone was only a step away from accusatory when he said, “You’re acting like you know him.”

For a moment, Gwaine didn’t move, not lifting his gaze from Gareth.

Then he let out a low breath. He closed his eyes as if preparing himself for a blow.

“He’s my brother.”

Elyan spat out the sip he had just taken from his waterskin. Percival just looked surprised. Leon’s mouth dropped open.

Arthur stuttered for several moments before he managed to say, “Your _brother?”_

Gwaine opened his eyes and let out another low breath. He didn’t look at any of them. “Yeah.”

Merlin blinked at Gwaine, before turning his gaze to Gareth once more.

Now that he knew, he could see it: they had the same nose, the same jaw. Gareth’s hair was much shorter and a much warmer brown, but it had the same soft curling texture as Gwaine’s. The most obvious difference seemed to be the freckles all across Gareth’s face, and Gareth’s slighter build.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Arthur said.

“I suppose he’s technically my half-brother,” Gwaine amended, “But I never really liked calling him that. He was just my brother. Mother remarried when I was nine, and Gareth came around a year after that.”

“… you’ve never talked about your family before, Gwaine,” Elyan started, almost hesitantly. “Did something happen between you?”

Gwaine didn’t move for a moment. But then he just deflated, curling in on himself.

“… Our mother died when I was fifteen, and we were left completely penniless,” Gwaine began. “Gareth was only five and my sister, Clara, was eighteen. For a couple years we tried to make do: she began to mend clothing, and I tried to offer my services to anyone who would accept them.

“But… times got harder and harder, and I… turned to less than honest means to get money.”

“You robbed people,” Arthur translated, his tone cool with anger.

Gwaine looked up, his eyes flashing. “I did. I admit it. I’m not proud of it; I hated every second of it. But what else was I supposed to do? We had no land, no money saved. My step-father didn’t even stick around after my mother fell ill. We only had each other to lean on - and without us we knew Gareth had no chance. So if I saw an unwatched coin purse I took it. If I saw a chance to win a gamble by cheating, I did it. After all, I needed the money more than they did, so what was the harm if I took some of their coin that they didn’t even bother to keep an eye on or keep in their pockets?”

Gwaine paused for a moment. “It helped us get by,” he said, softer. “I never told Clara what I was doing. I would leave in the mornings, and when I came home with some money I told her I earned it by doing odd jobs or by selling whatever I had managed to hunt that day.”

“And is that how you were making your living when we met you?” Arthur asked, voice cool and eyes narrowed. “Do I need to warn my men to not leave their coin loose when you’re near?”

“ _No,”_ Gwaine spat. “I _swear_ to you, Arthur, I have never robbed another person since I left home. I _swear_ on _my mother’s grave_ that every penny I have earned since I left has been through honest means. I haven’t robbed someone since I was seventeen and I vowed I would _never_ do it again.”

Gwaine and Arthur glared at each other over the fire for a couple moments. But then Merlin looked to Gwaine and asked, “Seventeen? Is that when you left home? What happened?”

Gwaine glanced to Merlin, expression falling from anger to surprise, but then let out a breath and turned away, his gaze dropped. “After some time, things got easier. Clara had a more stable income, and I even managed to get a few honest jobs - actually do the things Clara believed I was doing. I tried to stop stealing, I swear, but… I would slip. It just seemed so easy, you know? Sure, we were doing better, but I… I couldn’t seem to find a way to stop. It was just so _easy._ Watch the unsuspecting fool, and when they looked away, suddenly I was a little bit richer. Suddenly I didn’t have to worry about whether we could afford to eat that night.”

Gwaine’s eyes darkened. “Then Clara found out the truth. She was… disgusted with me. Not that I blame her, really, but… having it thrown in my face like that…”

Gwaine sighed. “We got into a fight. She told me that she and Gareth would be better off without me. She told me,” Gwaine took in a breath here, shaking, “That our mother would be ashamed of who I had become, and that it was a good thing she died before I could disappoint her.”

Merlin’s eyes saddened. “Oh, Gwaine.”

Gwaine shrugged, appearing as if not to care, but Merlin could see in his expression the truth of how it felt - of how much it had hurt. “She was probably right, you know. But I didn’t want to face it. So I packed a bag and I left. I turned north and just… started walking.

“Then it became so long that going back… I couldn’t do it. I tried a couple times, but… I couldn’t do it. The thought of facing them after I ran away, it scared me. And even if I did go back, I didn’t think they would want to see me. So I began traveling - seeing the other kingdoms. And then after a few years I met all of you and… you know the rest.

“I’ve thought of them everyday, but I haven’t seen Gareth or Clara since I was as old as Gareth is now.”

They fell into a silence then, Gwaine only watching the fire in front of him.

Elyan was the one to break the silence. He put his hand to Gwaine’s shoulder and took in a breath. “I know the feeling,” he murmured. “After a few years, the anger turns to shame, and the thought of going home becomes more painful than staying away. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but it’s not too late to fix things.”

Gwaine looked at Elyan, his expression uncertain. “Do you really think that?”

Elyan smiled a bit. “If Gwen could forgive me after I left, I don’t see why your sister couldn’t forgive you.”

Gwaine huffed. He turned back to the fire. “You’ve never met my sister,” he muttered. “And you weren’t gone for as long as I’ve been.”

“That’s true,” Elyan conceded. “But people can surprise you, sometimes. Especially family.”

Gwaine was silent for another moment, before he turned and looked at Gareth. “You’ve got that right - family does surprise you, sometimes,” he murmured. But then he sighed. “… I bet you all are ashamed of me now, too. Now that you know what I did.”

“ _What -_ no!” Merlin exclaimed immediately. “Gwaine, no! That was years ago! You were in a terrible situation! None of us are mad at you for that!”

Elyan nodded in agreement. “I understand perfectly,” he said.

Leon and Percival both spoke their assurances as well - that, while what Gwaine did was far from honorable, none of them could blame him the circumstances he had been in.

Merlin turned his narrowed eyed and challenging gaze to Arthur - the only one who hadn’t spoken.

Arthur let out a low breath. “While I… don’t _like_ what you did… I understand why,” Arthur said. He looked up. “And I apologize for accusing you of being a thief.”

Gwaine smirked wryly. “It’s alright, sire. Frankly I think I deserved it. I think it’s time I be held accountable for what I did.”

Arthur shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, Gwaine… I’m certain the guilt you’ve had was punishment enough. Though if you really feel it’s necessary, I’m sure I can arrange something - if I remember correctly, the army’s boots need polishing again.”

Merlin groaned. “Oh, anything but that.”

Arthur turned to Merlin. “Merlin, this is _Gwaine’s_ punishment, why are you complaining?”

“Because you’ll make me do it too.”

Arthur scoffed.

Gwaine chuckled. “In that case, I politely decline your offer of giving me a punishment - I’d hate to make Merlin suffer for my teenage actions.”

The other knights laughed while Arthur rolled his eyes. _“Fine._ But it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook - either of you for that matter.”

They fell into a silence then, each lost in their own thoughts, and Gwaine once more finding his attention on Gareth. He hadn’t stirred all throughout the conversation, and as far as Gwaine could tell, he would be out for the next several hours yet.

He felt something nudge his shoulder.

He turned to his side to find Merlin there. “Thank you for telling us, Gwaine,” Merlin said.

Gwaine smiled, rueful, but filled with gratitude. “Thank you for listening.”

~

“The fire’s getting low,” Merlin muttered a while later. He poked at it with a stick, before tossing it into the embers. He stood with a sigh. “Gareth needs to keep warm; I’ll have to get more wood.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gwaine said, pushing himself to a stand. He glanced around at the others, before looking to Merlin once more. “Assuming that’s alright?”

Merlin blinked, but then he nodded as he began to step out of the clearing. “Percival, can you watch over Gareth?”

Percival nodded. “Of course,” he said, taking Merlin’s spot by the fire.

A small grateful smile flickered across Gwaine’s face, before he turned to follow Merlin into the woods.

It was when they were a distance from the camp, a fair amount of firewood in arm, that Merlin finally spoke again. “So you and Gareth have different fathers, but you and Clara have the same father, and you all have the same mother?”

Gwaine nodded. “That’s right.”

“You told me you never met your father.”

“I never did,” Gwaine responded. “He was off on a campaign when I was born, and it was a few weeks later when my mother received word he’d been killed. She never knew if he died before or after I was born.”

“… oh,” Merlin said. “That must have been horrible.”

Gwiane let out a sigh. “It was,” he said. “First she lost her husband, and then Caerleon kicked her out when I was only a month old. Suddenly she was on her own with two children, with no family or money to support her. But… even then, she never gave up. She took care of us, even when she had no one to take care of her. My mother was one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, Merlin,” Gwaine said. He looked up to meet Merlin’s eyes, his expression a mix of grief, but also nostalgia as he remembered. “I miss her every day.”

Merlin gave Gwaine a soft, sympathetic smile -

But the he froze, eyes growing wide. He looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Did you hear that?”

Gwaine stopped as well. He quietly placed his wood on the ground, yet kept his eyes aloft and fixed on the woods. “No, but I trust that you did.”

Gwaine straightened and unsheathed his sword, his eyes still scanning the trees.

He heard a growl.

His head whipped to the side.

And there, stalking into the clearing, was a black wolf, its body low to the ground and its haunches raised. The wolf growled at the two of them, taking slow, predatory steps closer.

“Merlin, get behind me,” Gwaine ordered, already stepping in front of him and brandishing his sword.

The wolf growled again, eyeing Gwaine and Merlin and the sword in clear rage.

It lunged forward.

It was fast, and Gwaine only had a moment to sidestep and position his blade so the wolf went into it instead of him.

He struck its side.

But something felt _off._ The blade traveled through as if it were mud, not a solid form. The wolf landed behind Gwaine, and he rounded to face it once more, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

The wolf had fallen to the ground, and was slowly pushing itself back to its feet

That’s when Gwaine realized something.

The wolf… it didn’t look _right._

Instead of highlights and shadows, it was a solid black mass, with no distinction between what was close and what was further away. Its edges were wispy, as if the form were made of solid smoke that was slowly leaking away.

“That is _not a wolf!”_ Gwaine shouted.

Merlin glanced at him. “Magic?”

“Has to be.”

But they couldn’t theorize any longer.

The not-a-wolf rounded, its unnatural black eyes fixed on Gwaine, and its mouth in a fang-filled caricature of a real wolf’s snarl.

Merlin struck it in the head with a large stick.

The not-a-wolf yipped in pain and rolled for several feet, before finding its feet and moving once more to a stand.

It snarled at Merlin and Merlin - of _all things - dropped the wood he been brandishing and simply held out a hand._

But now was not the time to lecture Merlin over his survival instincts - or lack thereof, as it were. It stalked closer to Merlin. but without missing a beat, Gwaine bent to the ground, grabbed a stone, and flung it at its head.

The wolf yipped in surprise, its head whipping to the side.

But Gwaine’s goal was accomplished. The wolf turned towards Gwaine, now ignoring Merlin entirely.

Its eyes were fixed on Gwaine, and it was crouched - ready to pounce.

Gwaine brought his sword up -

The not-a-wolf rammed straight into Gwaine’s chest, knocking him down to the ground.

Gwaine’s sword was thrown from his hand.

“ _Gwaine!”_ Merlin exclaimed.

Gwaine landed on his back with a jolt, his head whipping back into the hard dirt and his vision briefly going white.

The not-a-wolf lunged forward.

Gwaine managed to catch its snout, holding its jaws apart as it slobbered and growled. The not-a-wolf clawed furiously by Gwaine’s sides, trying to gain purchase and move forward for the final blow.

Gwaine’s arms burned as he held it back, but the not-a-wolf was strong and determined and filled with bloodlust, and it inched closer, snarling and slobbering all over Gwaine.

Jaws almost to his throat -

“ _Wiþsúfan!”_

The not-a-wolf flew off of Gwaine with a yelp, flying through the air until colliding into a tree with a _crack,_ before it fell to the ground in a heap.

Gwaine stared at where it had landed, now a black lump at the base of the tree.

But then his eyes flicked back to Merlin.

Merlin’s hand was out, his shoulders heaving with each labored breath, and his eyes -

Gwaine almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

But he saw it - he watched as the last bits of gold faded from Merlin’s eyes.

Merlin stared at the not-a-wolf for a moment longer, before he lowered his arm.

Then he looked to Gwaine, his expression taking on a new one.

Merlin looked _terrified._

Gwaine blinked at him, glanced at the not-a-wolf, before turning back. “Merlin -” he started.

But Gwaine didn’t know what else to say.

Merlin had magic.

_Merlin had magic._

They stared at the other for what felt like an eternity yet could only have been a few heartbeats.

But then Gwaine remembered something more pressing.

He snapped his head back to the wolf.

It didn’t move.

Without taking his gaze from it, Gwaine rolled to his front, and pushed himself to his feet. He straightened slowly, watching the not-a-wolf for any sign of movement.

It remained still, even as Gwaine grabbed his sword and straightened fully to a stand.

Then he turned, Gwaine’s shocked eyes met Merlin’s. “Merlin -” he started.

But before he could say anything else, they heard the sound of others approaching, and a moment later Arthur and Elyan entered the clearing. “What happened?” Arthur demanded. “We heard shouting.”

“That thing attacked us,” Gwaine said, nodding to the fallen not-a-wolf as he sheathed his sword. “Don’t worry, Merlin and I handled it -”

The wolf shifted.

Gwaine lurched back, ready to unsheathe his sword once more.

But then he inhaled sharply.

It was as if the wolf was burning - burning from the inside out and turning instantly to ash. Each particle floated into the air, before fading into nothing.

And within moments the entire not-a-wolf had turned to dust, and disappeared on the wind.

It was completely gone, with no trace it had ever been there.

“ _Magic,”_ Arthur whispered. He immediately turned and began to examine the forest.

“Get back to the camp,” Arthur ordered, still searching. “I don’t want anyone else out here alone before sunrise.”

Gwaine shared a glance with Merlin, but then he spared a moment to gather up what wood he could before following Arthur and Elyan back to the camp.

Merlin hesitated for several moments, but then he began to follow as well, half-heartedly picking up a few spare twigs from the ground. He fell back from the group, and Gwaine slowed his steps to get to his side.

Merlin took in a shaking breath. “Gwaine -”

“We can talk about it later,” Gwaine murmured back. He met Merlin’s eyes. “I won’t tell anyone. You have my word.”

Merlin looked surprised. But then he pressed his lips into a line and nodded. _“Thank you,”_ he mouthed.

Gwaine gave him a small, wry smile, before turning back forward and hurrying back to the camp.

Gareth was still asleep when they returned. Gwaine set his wood close to the fire before rushing to Percival and Gareth’s side. “How is he?” he asked immediately.

“No change,” Percival reported “He’s still sleeping. What happened to you?”

“A magic wolf,” Arthur answered. “Gwaine dealt with it - but I don’t want anyone leave the camp alone before sunrise in case there are others.”

Gwaine immediately glanced at Merlin, feeling strange at having all the credit placed on him.

But Merlin didn’t even react, only crouching down by the dwindling fire and setting his sticks to the side, before feeding more into the flames.

After that, Merlin checked Gareth’s temperature and heart rate once more, before letting out a breath. “That’s all I can do for him for now. Once he wakes up I’ll be able to do more.”

Gwaine nodded. He let out a resigned breath and only watched the flames as he sat next to his brother and Merlin.

The others settled into their bedrolls - save for Elyan, standing watch - and for several minutes there was silence.

Merlin looked at Gwaine. “You should get some rest, too,” he said quietly. “You had last watch last night, so I know you’re exhausted.”

“What about you?” Gwaine asked. “You need sleep, too.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Merlin said. “I know my limits.”

Gwaine wanted to protest, but it was true: he’d been up for much longer than the others by this time, and even he could feel the exhaustion beginning to weigh him down.

So with another sigh, he stood and made his way to his bedroll on the other side of the fire. “Alright, don’t have to twist my arm. But if Gareth wakes up, I want to know.”

Merlin nodded. “I can do that.”

So that with that, Gwaine settled into his bedroll, before staring up at the stars.

The sound and warmth of the fire eventually lulled him to sleep.

~

Gwaine woke to his shoulder being nudged.

He blinked his eyes open and stared groggily up at Leon. “What?” he demanded.

“Gareth’s awake.”

Gwaine was immediately awake. He bolted upright and looked across the fire.

Gareth _was_ awake - sitting up with Merlin beside him as Merlin gently guided him to drink from a waterskin.

“Not too much,” Merlin said quietly. “I know you’re thirsty, but too much at once will make you vomit. We need to give your stomach time to settle.”

Gareth nodded, shaky, before taking a single sip from the waterskin. He lowered it, and took in several deep breaths.

Merlin smiled. “There you go, just like that,” he said. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten.”

“Um,” Gareth started, “A few days.”

For a moment, Gwaine couldn’t move. Gareth’s voice sounded almost nothing like he remembered it, now deeper and more resonant.

Yet… it still sounded like his little brother.

Merlin nodded. “I’ll get you some broth,” he said, moving to crouch by the cauldron over the fire and grabbing one of the bowls next to it.

Gwaine flipped his blanket aside, before coming over to Merlin beside the cauldron.

“How is he?” Gwaine whispered.

Merlin poured a bit of broth into the bowl. He said, “He woke up terrified - wondering where a wolf was,” he looked up to meet Gwaine’s eyes. “I think I can guess which one he was talking about.”

Gwaine grimaced. “It had been chasing him?”

Merlin nodded. “I told him we handled it; that it’s dead. He’s calmed down considerably. I think… I think now might be a good time to talk to him.” He looked up to meet Gwaine’s gaze again. “He doesn’t know who you are yet.”

Gwaine took in a sharp breath to steel himself. He nodded, gritted his jaw, before straightening and making his way to Gareth’s side.

“Hey, Gareth,” Gwaine started, taking a seat next to him. “How are you feeling?”

Gareth looked puzzled as he looked over Gwaine, but then he gave a small shrug. “I’m doing better.”

Gwaine nodded a bit. “That’s good. You gave us quite the scare - running out of the woods and fainting like that.”

Gareth laughed nervously, his eyes flicking down, and fidgeting with the edge of the blanket on his lap. “Yeah, I… I suppose that would have been a little strange…”

He glanced to where Leon had returned to his watch, before turning back to Gwaine. “I’m - I’m sorry, I’m a bit confused. Why did Sir…”

“Leon.”

“Sir Leon wake you? Did… did you need to talk to me?”

Gwaine took in a deep breath. “I suppose I do,” he said. “… but it can wait, it’s nothing important-”

Gwaine moved as it to push himself back to a stand.

But Merlin’s steely glare forced him back down.

Gwaine sat again, and he let out a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair. “Gareth, I…”

Gwaine’s jaw worked as he tried to find the words.

_Gareth, I am your brother._

_Name’s Gwaine - I think you might know me._

_Remember how ten years ago you had a brother who up and left you one day? Yeah, that was me. Surprise!_

“… I only wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re my brother, after all.”

Gareth looked confused for a moment longer.

Then his eyes widened in shock. _“Gwaine?”_

Gwaine’s smirked wryly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, Reth.”

Gareth blinked at Gwaine for several moments. He quickly looked him over, still surprised, before his shocked gaze settled on Gwaine’s face once more. “I- What- How- Gwaine, _where have you been? Where did you go?”_

“… I’ve been traveling,” he answered. “I’ve been all over.”

“But you never came back. You _didn’t even say goodbye.”_

Gwaine closed his eyes and let out a low breath. “… I know. And I’m sorry,” he said, so softly it was barely heard.

They fell into a silence, only the sounds of the forest, the crackle of the fire, and Merlin’s idle stirring (had he been doing that this whole time?) surrounding them.

Gwaine then took in a breath. “… I never meant to hurt you, Gareth,” he said. “I know I did… but I thought you and Clara would be better off without me.”

Gareth was quiet. But then his eyes widened in horror. “Oh gods -” then suddenly he was grabbing Gwaine’s arm. _“Clara,_ Gwaine -”

“What happened to Clara?”

Gareth took in a shaking gasp, tears already leaking free. “It’s - it’s Hierna -”

Gwaine took in a sharp breath and his heart staggered. _What?_

“She - she found us. She took Clara and I to Canguin. Clara managed to get me out but - but I had to leave her! She stayed behind so I could get out!”

Gareth lurched forward and grabbed Gwaine tight in a hug, shaking and sobbing onto Gwaine’s shoulder.

Gwaine didn’t move for several moments, stuck in place by surprise.

But then he wrapped his arms around Gareth and held him tight.

“Hey, shh, shh shh shh,” Gwaine started. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re safe. _You’re safe.”_

Gwaine looked up at the sound of footsteps, and found that Merlin had finally decided to rejoin Gareth at the side.

None of them moved for several minutes, Gareth only crying onto Gwaine’s shoulder as Gwaine held him, and Merlin patiently waiting by their side with a bowl of broth in his hand.

But, eventually, Gareth’s breathing evened out, and he leaned away from Gwaine and dropped his arms. He looked at Merlin, his cheeks flushed from both his crying and slight embarrassment.

Merlin didn’t comment on the tears. He handed Gareth the bowl. “Just like the water - not too fast,” he said.

Gareth nodded, and he took the spoon before giving himself small portions of the broth and eating it slowly.

None of them spoke while Gareth ate, Gwaine only sitting beside his brother with their shoulders touching, and Merlin on Gareth’s other side, making sure he didn’t make himself sick.

Gareth let out a small sniffle, and he leaned closer to Gwaine’s side.

Gwaine met Merlin’s eyes in surprise. But then his gaze softened and he put his arm around Gareth’s shoulders, holding his brother close. He rubbed Gareth’s arm in a way he hoped was comforting, but he didn’t speak.

Gareth eventually finished the broth. He handed the bowl back to Merlin.

Merlin smiled, pleased. “Now just get some sleep. That’s the best thing for you right now. You’ll probably sleep for a long time - your body’s exhausted - so don’t be surprised if you sleep for a whole day.”

Gareth nodded. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Merlin smiled a bit, before he stood and set the bowl down with the other dishes he hadn’t had a chance to clean yet, before making his own way to his bedroll and settling in to finally get some sleep.

“Get some rest,” Gwaine murmured to Gareth. “I’m not going anywhere. I can promise you that.”

Gareth sniffled, once, but then he gave a shaky nod and wiped fresh tears from his eyes. He lowered himself back down to the bedroll, pulling the fur over himself again and watching the fire.

Gwaine didn’t move for a beat, but then he let out a low breath and reached out a hand to give Gareth’s shoulder a small squeeze. He stood, rounded the fire to make his way back to his own bedroll, before lying down and staring up at the stars.

Sleep evaded him for the rest of the night, thoughts of the sister he had left behind filling his mind.

~

Gwaine didn’t get a chance to speak with Merlin for most of the morning.

Well, that isn’t to say they didn’t talk.

But they didn’t get a chance to _talk._

With making sure that Gareth was comfortable for the ride back, packing up the camp, and finally riding home, Gwaine hadn’t been able to find a chance to pull Merlin aside and ask him about the giant, gold-glowing dragon in the room that can throw magical wolves off of knights with a single word.

Gwaine had had Gareth first, his brother sharing the saddle for a while, and they had set up a system of trading who was have him every hour or so.

It was during Percival’s turn to have Gareth that Gwaine found himself at the back of the patrol, Merlin next to him, and the sound of the horses’ hooves providing a nice cover if they were to fall back just a bit and talk quietly amongst themselves.

“So… magic, huh?”

Merlin stiffened immediately. His lips pressed into a line, and he gave a barely imperceptible nod.

Gwaine hummed. “For how long?”

Merlin was quiet for a moment. “I was born with it,” he said. “I’ve had it my whole life.”

Gwaine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Impressive,” he said. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of that happening.”

“Gaius says he’s never seen anything like it, either.”

“Gaius? He knows then?”

Merlin chewed his lip, still wary, but then he gave a single nod.

“Anyone else?”

“… My mother,” Merlin murmured back. He was quiet for a moment, before saying, “Lancelot did.”

Gwaine was taken aback a bit. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but then he stopped when he saw Merlin’s position: straight-backed, his eyes fixed ahead with a dazed and stony expression on his face, and his knuckles white where they gripped the reins.

“Merlin,” Gwaine started, putting his hand to Merlin’s forearm and drawing Merlin’s full attention to him. “I promise you I won’t tell anyone,” he responded, meeting Merlin’s eyes. “I can only guess how scared you are right now, but I promise, your secret’s safe with me.” He then smirked a bit, before he added, “Besides, you’ve kept one of mine - the least I can do is keep one of yours.”

Merlin blinked at him for a moment longer.

Then a rueful yet grateful smile came to Merlin’s face. “Thanks, Gwaine.”

Gwaine gave him a small grin. He reached out to playfully push Merlin’s shoulder. “I may not know much, but I know you would never hurt us. There isn’t much in this world I’m certain of, but I’m certain of that.”

Merlin’s smile widened, but he didn’t respond, the two of them falling into a silence that was only broken by the sound of the horses’ hooves.

“… Arthur thought it was just me who handled the wolf,” Gwaine said. “… I take it things like that have happened before.”

Merlin gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“You save us, and someone else gets all the credit,” Gwaine said. “I’m guessing last night wasn’t the first time.”

Merlin chewed his lip for a moment, before nodding his head.

“Is it a common occurrence?”

“Common enough,” Merlin answered. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, that’s not fair.”

Merlin sighed. “It’s not,” he agreed. “But until Arthur changes the laws, unless I have a sudden desire to separate my head from my shoulders, that’s the way it has to be.”

Gwaine opened his mouth to argue back, but he could see in the set of Merlin’s shoulders and the resigned tone of his voice that it would be a fruitless endeavor. So he only sighed. “Well, until then, you have my permission to come and gloat to me about all the amazing things you have done. And I’m sure there are plenty of them.”

Merlin then turned to Gwaine, his brow furled in what seemed to be suspicion. “You’re taking this extremely well.”

Gwaine shrugged. “Magic isn’t bad. I’ve known that my whole life, and… really, knowing this explains a lot. I’m kicking myself for not realizing it sooner.”

Merlin let out a small laugh. “You didn’t expect to see it, so you… didn’t.”

“Still waters run deep. You’re just living proof of that,” Gwaine responded. He paused, and his brow furled in thought. “But… Merlin,” he started. He turned back to him. “I can understand the magic, but why Camelot? You’re from Essetir. Why are you here?”

Merlin bit his lip. He sighed. “That’s… a long story. I’d… rather not explain it right now, if you don’t mind.”

Gwaine shrugged. “Fair enough, mate. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

Merlin gave him a grateful smile.

There was no more talk of magic all the way back to Camelot. Between the knights trading off who had Gareth, and the shifting of positions, Merlin and Gwaine didn’t have another chance to fall back and talk where they knew they wouldn’t be overheard.

Gareth didn’t stir the whole ride back, even when the horses went from traveling on the soft forest dirt to the cobble streets of the city.

They reached the courtyard, several servants running forward to greet them and take their horses.

“Gwaine, take your brother to Gaius,” Arthur ordered as he dismounted. “Merlin, go warn Gaius and help him get ready.”

Merlin nodded, and as soon as he was off his horse, he was running towards the physician’s tower to warn him of the incoming patient.

Elyan had had Gareth for the final stretch, and he carefully lowered him to Gwaine and Percival’s arms from his place in the saddle.

Gwaine adjusted until he held all of Gareth’s weight - one arm under his knees and the other to his shoulders - before nodding at Percival in thanks.

Gwaine followed Merlin as quickly as he was able, and when he reached the infirmary, he found Merlin standing there and holding the door open. He stepped inside, and found Gaius by the cleared patient cot.

Gaius waved Gwaine over. “Bring him here. Set him down gently. There you go.”

Gwaine did, resting Gareth on the patient’s cot, before stepping back. Gaius took the vacant place, already looking over Gareth for signs of injury. “Thank you, Sir Gwaine, that will be all -”

“I’d like to stay,” Gwaine said.

Gaius looked up and frowned. “While I appreciate your concern, Sir Gwaine, I don’t think -”

Merlin spoke up. “Um, Gaius, Gwaine really should stay.”

Gaius looked confused. He glanced between Merlin and Gwaine a couple times. “What makes you say that?”

Gwaine took in a breath. “Because he’s my brother.”

Gaius’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. Gaius thought for a moment, before glancing at Gareth. He then sighed. “While I understand that you would wish to stay, I’m afraid that Merlin and I -”

Merlin cleared his throat and pointedly didn’t meet Gaius’s gaze, “Also, Gwaine knows now.”

Gaius’s expression fell to shock, and he glanced between the two of them, askance. “He knows?”

“He _knows.”_

“If this is about the -” Gwaine waved his fingers - “Yes, I do know now.”

Gaius’s mouth opened and closed several times, unable to find words. He turned to Merlin, appalled.

“He was being attacked by a magic wolf!” Merlin exclaimed, “It would have killed him if I hadn’t done anything!”

Gaius blinked at Merlin in shock for a moment later.

Before he let out a sigh and closed his eyes in exasperation.

“We will discuss this later, Merlin,” Gaius said. He rounded to Gwaine. “And _you,_ Sir Gwaine, better know how to to keep a secret as if your life depended on it - because Merlin’s certainly does.”

Gwaine raised his hands defensively. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

Gaius’s eyes narrowed. “You better not. Just know that if anything happens to Merlin, _I_ will be the one to make sure you suffer the consequences.”

Gwaine visibly paled at that thought, involuntarily glancing to the poisons displayed on Gaius’s shelves.

But before he could respond, Gaius turned and went to Gareth’s side. Merlin followed.

Gwaine silently watched as Merlin and Gaius treated his brother, though there wasn’t much to do. Gaius gently wrapped the more severe of Gareth’s injuries, placed a healing salve over some of his bruises, and made sure that he was wrapped in blankets and comfortable. After some time, Gaius straightened, and simply reported that they had done all they could for the time being.

Gwaine took the chair next to the patient’s cot, and resolved to wait there until Gareth woke.

~

Merlin and Gwaine didn’t leave the physician’s room for the rest of the day.

After several hours, Gareth woke for a short while. Long enough for Merlin and Gwaine to tell him where he was and assure him he was safe, and to get some more broth and water in him before he fell into a deep sleep once more.

“He’s exhausted,” Merlin murmured while he was grinding some herbs in a mortar while Gaius was off doing his rounds - medicine to help Gareth regain his strength, he explained - “I’m guessing he had been running from that wolf for several days and didn’t sleep.”

Gwaine nodded, his eyes darkening. “That would explain it.”

Merlin held the mortar up to his nose and gave it a small sniff, before setting it down. He grabbed a pinch of something from the table and tossed it in, before grinding that into the mixture as well. He didn’t speak for several moments, but then he let out a sigh. He set the pestle down. “Gwaine… I overheard you and Gareth last night.” He turned to Gwaine. “Who’s Hierna? What’s Canguin?”

Gwaine didn’t move for several moments, his brow pinched and lips pressed into a line. But then he let out a low breath. “When my mother was seventeen she was abducted.”

Gwaine looked up to see Merlin’s reaction. He looked shocked, horrified even, but he didn’t say anything to interrupt.

Gwaine continued, “Her abductor was… I don’t even know for sure but she was something magic, something _inhuman._ She called herself _Hierna,_ and Hierna took my mother to a decrepit castle just off the coast. It was called Canguin Rock, and my mother was trapped there for three years. She tried to escape, numerous times, but each time she was caught again and thrown back into the tower and trapped again. Hierna once told my mother why she’d taken her,” Gwaine said. He frowned as he tried to think. “I don’t remember how she phrased it… something about my mother’s line being strong? It was… something about a prophecy and Hierna’s defeat, I believe. But I don’t remember the details.”

Gwaine worked his jaw for a moment, trying to decide his next words. “Canguin Rock it’s… it’s a challenge, basically. It purports to have the greatest jewels and treasures in all of Albion - that if you can get to them, you and all generations to follow you will never have to work again - but… no one had ever managed to succeed. That is… until my father.

“My father was the first one to make it through,” Gwaine said, looking up to meet Merlin’s eyes. “He was the first one to reach the place where all the jewels were, where all the treasures were kept. But he ignored all of them in favor of getting my mother out. And once he got her out he took her home.

“Originally he had only planned to stay with her long enough to make sure she got back on her feet, but then weeks turned to months, and months turned to a couple years, until finally he asked her to marry him.”

Gwaine said this part with a smile, clearly remembering the story as his mother had told it to him time and time again.

“My sister was born the next year, and I followed a couple years later.”

Gwaine fell into silence then, leaving Merlin to fill in the rest of the blanks Gwaine had explained only the night before: his mother remarrying, having Gareth, before being taken by something as mundane as illness.

Then Gwaine sighed. “My mother warned us about Hierna - she seemed to think that maybe she would come after her again, or even us, so she taught us to always watch our backs, and how to defend ourselves if needed. But she always… she always insisted that if we stayed together and protected each other, we would be fine.” Gwaine stopped, then his expression falling to a sad realization. “I left them behind, and now Hierna has my sister,” Gwaine said. He slumped forward in his chair, jaw working, before he shoved himself to a stand and moved to the window, fist to his mouth.

“… What do you plan to do?” Merlin asked.

Gwaine shook his head, lost. “I don’t know. But someone _has_ to help her, Merlin,” Gwaine said, turning from the window. “I can’t just leave her there - I can’t just _abandon_ her. I won’t. Not again. I’ll… I’ll have to head to Canguin and break her out myself.”

“Do you know where it is?”

Gwaine smirked wryly. “I know _exactly_ where it is. My mother made sure we knew how to find it so we would never _accidentally_ stumble across it.” His smirk fell. He then said, almost to himself, “I don’t think she ever imagined that I would willingly seek it out.”

A beat. Then Merlin stood. “I’m coming with you -”

“Merlin…” Gwaine started. He sighed. “I appreciate that, truly. But no. I need you here - I need you _safe.”_

Merlin scoffed. “What for?”

“Who will take care of Gareth?”

“Gaius can, Arthur can. He’ll be safe here. You know that.”

“But what about you?” Gwaine started, taking a step towards him. “Merlin, you’re my closest friend, and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I’m asking you to stay for your own good. This is my fault, and I’m the one who needs to fix it. You don’t have to get involved.”

“Gwaine, _I’m your friend._ I can help you! You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I don’t know what’s there! If you got killed because of me, I would never forgive myself.”

“And if you got killed because I wasn’t there to help - what then?” Merlin responded sharply. “What about Gareth?”

Gwaine took in a breath. “That’s a risk I have to take,” he said. “But I will only risk _my_ life - I’m not risking yours too. You are not coming with me, and that is _final.”_

Merlin stared at Gwaine, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words, and his expression that of hurt.

Gwaine hated that he was the one who brought that look to Merlin’s face, but he knew there was no other way. Gwaine took in a breath. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready. My sister’s been left there long enough already.”

Gwaine turned on his heel and left, Merlin staring after him.

~

Gwaine heard his door open.

“You’re not going with me,” he said, not even turning from where he was packing his bag on his bed. He had already changed into his chainmail, and only needed to do this one last thing before he could set out.

“Like hell I’m not,” Merlin retorted sharply. “You need all the help you can get and I am not letting you go alone.”

“Merlin,” Gwaine said in exasperation. He turned to face him. “This is _my_ family. They’re not your responsibility - they’re mine. You don’t have to get involved.”

“And you’re my friend,” Merlin insisted, coming forward. “You came and helped me when I asked for it. You’ve saved my life many times over. The least I can do is help you save your sister.”

A beat. Gwaine forced out a harsh sigh. “We don’t know what’s there - _I_ don’t know what’s there. For all I know this could just be one giant trap and I’d be leading you straight to your death.”

“Well, I think it’s obvious it’s a giant trap,” Merlin said, deadpan. “But I also know _that I can help you._ You _know_ what I can do now, Gwaine. I’m not as helpless as you think.”

“I’ve never thought you were helpless, even before I knew. But I still don’t want to put you in unnecessary danger. If _I_ hadn’t left then maybe this never would have happened. This is _my_ fault and _my_ family and it’s no one’s responsibility but mine to fix it.”

“But have you ever considered that _you_ are _my_ family, Gwaine?” Merlin said, coming several steps into the room and meeting his eyes. “You want to help your family? Okay. But let me do the same and let me help _mine.”_

Gwaine blinked at Merlin in surprise for several moments, before turning back to his bed and his nearly packed bag.

Merlin spoke again, “Gwaine, let _me help you._ Please.”

Gwaine let out a breath, and a small smirk came to his face as he remembered just how stubborn Merlin can be, that, really, Merlin would find a way to join him even if Gwaine gave him a sleeping draught, locked him in the dungeons, and threw the key down the throat of a griffin.

Besides, wouldn’t two be better than one? Especially if half of that two happens to have magic?

He turned back to Merlin, smirk widening. “I take it you’re not going to give me much of a choice anyway.”

Merlin grinned, realizing what Gwaine was really saying. “You got that right.”

“How long will it take you to get ready? I want to leave as soon as we can.”

Merlin’s grin widened.

He stepped outside Gwaine’s room and bent to the side.

When he straightened he had a full pack slung over his shoulder. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Gwaine laughed at that, before shaking his head in fond exasperation. He shoved the last of his supplies into his own bag, before closing the flap over the top.

He nodded. “Okay. There’s just one more thing I need to do.”

~

Gwaine quietly opened the door to the physician’s tower.

Gaius was out on his rounds, and a quick glance of the room didn’t reveal Gareth.

But the privacy screen had been pulled out, blocking the view of the patient’s bed.

Gwaine made his way quietly over there - Merlin choosing to wait by the door.

Gareth still slept soundly. His eyes were still bagged and his skin gaunt, but he looked considerably better than when he had stumbled on their patrol only the night before.

A small, relieved smile came to Gwaine’s face.

He glanced to the table, and spotted ink and a quill, and a stack of small pieces of parchment.

He grabbed the quill and hastily scratched out a message.

A note, with three simple words.

_Be back soon._

_-Gwaine_

He folded it in half, before setting it down on the table next to the patient cot. Then he took one more look at his brother.

Gwaine’s stomach twisted for a single moment - the thought of what would happen to him if Gwaine didn’t return.

But Gareth was in Camelot now - with Arthur and Gwen and Gaius and Percival and Elyan and Leon.

No matter what happened to Gwaine, he knew Gareth would be taken care of.

Gwaine let out a low breath, before he turned. He met Merlin’s eyes and nodded as he grabbed his pack and hastened to the door. “Let’s get going.”

Within ten minutes, Gwaine was mounted on his horse, Merlin on his, and the two of them were galloping through the gates out of the city and into forest beyond, making their way to Canguin.

~

It took nearly two full days of riding before they reached the shore.

Though they could hear the thunder of the waves before them, the terrain became too rocky for their horses to continue, so they were forced to dismount before reaching the cliffside.

Merlin enchanted a radius, enticing the horses to stay inside or to return to it if they strayed too far.

He couldn’t help casting a glance to Gwaine after the spell, but Gwaine only looked impressed, saying something about how he’d need to keep that trick in mind the next time they went on patrol.

Merlin gave him a smirk, responded that there was more where that came from, before the two of them turned once more towards the sea.

The sound of the ocean got louder, and the air became so thick with the smell of salt that Gwaine could taste it on his tongue and feel it in his throat.

The two of them left the treeline, and found themselves along a dark cliffside, and the gray of the ocean meeting the overcast sky miles away. He’d seen the ocean before, yes, but not like this. Not crashing in violent waves far below them, and colored gray with the clouds.

For a while they walked along the cliffs, Merlin looking out into the mist and sea spray for any sign of what they were looking for.

The sea air ripped in a torrent around them, Gwaine’s cape snapping behind him and his hair being pulled with it, and Merlin holding an arm by his head to protect himself from the wind and spray.

“It has to be nearby,” Gwaine said, raising his voice over the sound of the ocean and the wind. “This is where my mother said it was.”

Merlin stepped forward. He put his hand to Gwaine’s shoulder and pointed down the coast. “Let’s head that way. It looks like there are more outcroppings down there.”

Gwaine nodded, and they set out, climbing along the cliff and staring out into the sea and mist where they could.

Gwaine stopped, attempting to peer into the distance through the mist.

But then the mist cleared, and Merlin was able to see a dark shape appear before him, set on a tapered and crag-like rock just beyond the shore. On its tip, Merlin could see -

“There it is,” Gwaine said. “Canguin Rock.”

The castle reached into the sky, edges sharp dark against the gray storming clouds and jagged corners all along the cliff face below it.

The very sight filled Merlin with dread, goosebumps rising all along his arms. Was Gwaine’s sister really there? Had Gwaine’s mother truly been held there for three years?

Merlin glanced at Gwaine, before turning back. “How do we get across?”

Gwaine turned his gaze to the cliff below, before he began to carefully make his way down to a crack in it. “My mother said there was a ferryman - usually someone who attempted Canguin, but failed. Most die, but some reach a bargain with Hierna: they live, but in return they have to be the ones to ferry people to the castle.”

They made their way down the cliff, finding footholds and handholds where they could, and giving each other a hand if they were able.

Eventually, they reached a small ledge at the bottom. And, if they looked hard enough, they could see what looked like a dock at the base of the spire that held the castle. But the sea ripped and tore only a feet below them, and they knew that there was no way they would be able to swim across even if they weren’t weighed down by chainmail or supplies.

“Look,” Merlin said while pointing.

Ahead, there was a small dock, with a single boat tied to it, bouncing and moving with the waves. Merlin and Gwaine approached, and examined what they could only assume was the ferry Gwaine had been talking about.

The ferry, but no ferryman.

“Well, here’s the ferry, but where’s -”

“Hello.”

When retelling the story to the others later, one detail that Merlin and Gwaine _“forgot”_ to mention was the scream they both let out at the sudden voice behind them. 

They turned around to find a wide-eyed man behind them, looking them over with an expression that was probably just as startled and Merlin and Gwaine’s own.

“Apologies,” the man started. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Merlin and Gwaine both blinked at him, then each other, before turning back.

Gwaine cleared his throat. “Are you the ferryman?” he asked.

The man nodded. “I am. I am Guiromelant,” he said. “Do you seek passage to Canguin?”

“We do,” Merlin said. “We would like you to take us there.”

“And do you truly wish to go?” Guiromelant asked. He stepped forward, as if entreating them. “Know that if you go, there is every chance you will not return. I have escorted many in… but never any out.”

Gwaine met Guiromelant’s eyes, Clara’s face flashing in his mind. “We have no other choice.”

Guiromelant seemed saddened by the news. He nodded. “Very well,” he said. He stepped past them and stepped into the boat, before turning back to them.

“In order to gain passage, you must give me your name. No falsehoods may enter here.”

Merlin and Gwaine shared a glance.

Then Merlin straightened and met the ferryman’s gaze. “I am Merlin of Ealdor, known as Emrys among the druids.”

Guiromelant nodded, then he turned his green eyes to Gwaine. “And you?”

Gwaine gave Merlin a confused glance - Emrys? - but then he turned back to the ferryman. He made a mental note to ask about that. But later. “I am Sir Gwaine, Knight of Camelot.”

“And what is it that you seek, Merlin and Sir Gwaine? For all who travel to Canguin hope to find something within its walls.”

Merlin looked to Gwaine.

Gwaine rolled his shoulders back. He took in a breath. “We seek my sister,” he answered. “Lady Clarissant.”

Guiromelant’s eyes widened in surprise.

But then his expression returned to what it was before, and he nodded. “A noble quest,” he said. “Before you enter, I must as that you choose one weapon to use, and leave the rest of your supplies here. Canguin Rock is a place of skill, and you may only bring _that_ with you.”

Merlin looked askance. “That’s ludicrous.”

Guiromelant sighed. “I did not make the rules,” he said. “I am simply here to enforce them.”

Gwaine blinked, but then he huffed. “Is this acceptable?” asked, patting the sword to his side.

Guiromelant nodded. He turned to Merlin. “And you?”

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the ferryman as he took his bag off from his shoulders.

He folded back the flap and reached inside.

Then he pulled out an object that was much too long to have fit in there in the first place.

Gwaine ogled at the several-feet-long staff in disbelief, taking in the blue crystal found at the top that was held in place by the winding roots. “Where did you get _that?!”_ he exclaimed, covering several of his questions in a single exclamation.

Merlin grimaced. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it involved some banished Sidhe and another attempt to kill Arthur.”

“I - uh - _what?”_ Gwaine said.

“Place your things in my cave,” Guiromelant said, apparently unconcerned with the story of the staff. “I will watch over them.”

Merlin and Gwaine shared a glance, but with a huff they both turned to the small cave behind them, and they placed their things just inside the entrance.

They tried not to notice the overwhelming number of bags that filled the cave - bags left behind by their owners that had never been claimed.

But they couldn’t spare any time to focus on that, so they crossed the dock back to Guiromelant and his boat.

Merlin and Gwaine climbed into the boat, and they sat down on the wooden slats there.

Guiromelant murmured a word, and a long wooden staff appeared in one hand. He tapped it against the rope holding the boat to the dock, it untying itself, before he plunged the stick into the ocean waves and pushed off.

“A piece of advice,” Guiromelant said. “Be sure to pay attention - you never know when something might sneak up behind you.”

“Oh, har har,” Gwaine said. “You’re just making fun of us for earlier.”

Guiromelant smirked just a bit. “Perhaps,” he said, but then his expression fell back to seriousness. “But I do mean it - pay attention, or you won’t make it far.”

Gwaine turned his attention back to the rock in front of them.

The mist was beginning to thin as they approached, and as he looked closer, he could see a winding staircase, making its way from the dock all the way up the spire to the gates of the castle.

Gwaine grimaced. “We climbed all this way down only to have to climb back up again.”

Merlin laughed dryly. “It’s probably to tire us out so we’re easier to kill.”

“I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

Within a few more minutes of travel, they reached the opposite dock.

Gwaine climbed out first, and he held out his hand and helped Merlin out of the boat. Then he held out a hand to Guiromelant.

“I cannot leave the ferry without her permission,” Guiromelant said, not moving to leave the boat. “Such is my curse laid upon me by Lady Hierna.”

Merlin and Gwaine shared a glance. But then Merlin turned back to Guiromelant and nodded. “Thank you for taking us across.”

Guiromelant didn’t answer.

Merlin turned, and he took his first step up the stairs.

Gwaine began to follow.

“ _Wait,”_ Guiromelant hissed, grabbing Gwaine’s wrist. 

Merlin jolted back, staff at the ready.

But Gwaine held out his arm to stop him. “Yes?” he asked.

“Beware when you enter. The path that seems the easiest will most certainly be your doom. Hierna is cunning - do not trust her for one moment. Even if it seems you have succeeded, you must not let your guard down. You will not be safe until you are once more in my boat and heading for the shore.”

Gwaine didn’t move for a moment. He shared a concerned glance with Merlin, before turning back to Guiromelant. He nodded. “We’ll keep it in mind.”

“I wish the both of you the best of luck,” Guiromelant said, looking up to them once more. He released Gwaine’s wrist. “And I hope you succeed in your quest.”

Gwaine looked Guiromelant over once more, then he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, before turning to the mist-slicked stairs and following Merlin upwards.

The hike up the slick stairs was perilous. The wind tore at the two of them, and they had to lean close to the wall to shield themselves from it. Merlin’s foot slipped once, and it was only Gwaine’s quick grab of his elbow that saved him from tumbling over the edge into the surf below.

But eventually, laboriously, they did reach the top. They each spent a moment there, regaining their breath, and taking the chance to more closely examine the castle before them.

It was black, with sharp edges and spires reaching high into the sky. It was tall - almost three times the height of the tallest tower in Camelot - and they both had to crane their necks to see the highest point.

Gwaine turned to Merlin after he had finally recovered his breath. “You ready?”

Merlin gripped his staff tight. He clenched his jaw. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

And together, they followed the path to the base of the tower. There was a small set of stairs, leading to an immense ebony black door. It blocked their way, no handles apparent on the front.

Merlin glanced to Gwaine before turning back to the door. “Do we… knock?”

Gwaine shrugged. “Worth a try,” he said, raising his fist.

His knuckles had barely scraped the damp wood before both doors went flying inward, and a single gust of stale air greeted them before dissipating. The room was dark, made from the same stone as the rest of the castle, and they were unable to see the other end.

Merlin and Gwaine shared a glance. Merlin’s grip tightened on his staff as he nodded in determination.

Gwaine returned the nod, unsheathed his sword, and as one they stepped inside.

The room didn’t change upon their entrance, and Gwaine frowned. That didn’t seem right.

Merlin seemed confused as well, holding his staff in both hands as his gaze swept the dark room. Gwaine couldn’t make out much, beyond their own shadows at their feet that stretched across the black and white patterned floor.

A second step in did nothing.

Neither did a third, their steps and the echoing waves outside the only sound.

“Do you sense anything?” Gwaine whispered to Merlin.

Merlin shook his head. “Not yet.”

They took a fourth step in -

Torches all around the room lit, two by two along the edges and heading deeper into the room until it was all illuminated.

The door slammed shut behind them, closing them off from the outside world.

“ _Welcome -”_ a booming voice sounded. 

Merlin and Gwaine jolted so they were standing back to back, and each of them scoured the room to see if they could determine the source of the voice.

The voice, apparently sourceless, continued reverberating through the room, _“- To Canguin Rock.”_

“Are you Hierna?” Gwaine shouted.

The voice chuckled, light and amused. _“I see you’ve heard of me. This is a surprise - most who come here haven’t. I must say I’m pleased. Now, what brings you to Canguin?”_

“I’ve come for my sister,” Gwaine shouted. “Release her!”

Hierna cackled then, high and shrieking. _“Oh, I see! You must be that Gwaine, Anna’s second child. I was about to send out another creature to search for you, but how convenient that you’ve arrived yourself. And with a sorcerer, no less. Are you both here to see how you fare against Canguin?”_

“We want no part of your games!” Merlin shouted. “We’ve come for Clara and that’s it! Let her go and we’ll leave you in peace!”

Hierna clicked her tongue in disapproval. _“No, no, no, we can’t have that. Canguin Rock is a place of_ challenges. _You can’t simply come in here and demand to leave with what you came looking for. That isn’t how this works.”_

“I don’t care how it works,” Gwaine growled. “You will release Clara, _now.”_

“… _I don’t believe I will. As I said before: Canguin Rock is a place of challenges. If you can make your way to your sister and out again, by all means you will be allowed to leave. That is…_ if _you manage to reach her._

“ _Your trials begin now._ _Good luck.”_

“Wait!” Gwaine shouted. “Get back here!”

But no voice answered, the echoes of Gwaine’s last shout the only response.

Gwaine growled. “So much for the easy way,” he said.

Merlin glanced around the room. “… she said our trial started… but there’s nothing here.”

For a couple moments, neither of them moved, just examining the room. Nothing looked overly threatening, and there was no sound beyond their own breathing - not even the muffled sound of the ocean.

Merlin took a couple steps forward.

And then a couple more

He stepped onto a white tile.

The sound of shattering glass filled the room.

Gwaine lunged to Merlin and pulled him close, swinging his cloak around both their shoulders and heads just in time.

They both felt the pieces of glass pelt the cloak as they rained down upon them, and the sound they made as it fell to the floor.

When it was silent for a few moments, Gwaine pulled his cloak from his head and Merlin’s and looked around. The pieces of glass sparkled all around them, many of them the size of his hand or larger, and definitely would not have been pleasant had they hit their target.

Merlin blinked at the glass, clearly thinking the same thing Gwaine was, before he turned to Gwaine. “Thanks. How did you know-?”

Gwaine smirked. “When you’ve been in a few tavern fights, you learn how to avoid getting hurt by flying glass from smashed windows.”

Merlin mouthed a silent _ah,_ but then he turned around and examined the room. “Something set that off,” he said. “I wouldn’t count on it being the only thing in here.”

Gwaine nodded, still staring at the jagged pieces of glass. “I agree. My guess is that this first challenge is to just make it to the other side in one piece.”

Then his eyes widened. “Merlin, look.”

Merlin did.

The glass was disintegrating - turning to ash that floated into the air before disappearing altogether.

Merlin took in a sharp breath. “Just like the wolf,” he murmured. He then said, grim, “Well, I think we know for sure who sent it now.”

Gwaine grit his teeth. “I think we do.”

Their steps forward were much slower now, each of them turning in circles as they walked forward and their ears primed for any more traps. No threats made themselves apparent from the sides for several steps, but the feeling of foreboding only grew.

Gwaine’s boot brushed a white tile.

He heard something being released - like a trebuchet before throwing its load.

He turned to see large axe swinging down towards him.

Gwaine only just rolled out of the way, before it hit the ground behind him with a loud crash, burying itself deep into the tiles and shattering them.

Gwaine took in a couple ragged breaths, his heart racing, as he looked over the axe. It was easily taller than he was, and completely blocked his view of the room behind.

Then his eyes widened in horror as he realized what else he couldn’t see. _“Merlin?!”_

Merlin poked his head around the side of the axe, his eyes wide, but thankfully still attached to the rest of him. “That was close,” he said.

Gwaine nodded, still reeling and his breathing labored. He straightened to a stand, before tipping his head and indicating onward. “C’mon. We’re almost there.”

Merlin delicately stepped around the axe, squeezing himself between its blade and the wall, before rushing those last few steps to reach Gwaine’s side.

As soon as he reached him, the axe also began to disappear.

They watched as it completely vanished, and as all the cracks in the floor fixed themselves, leaving no trace that the axe had been there.

They blinked at where it had been, before Merlin turned to Gwaine. “Glass, then the axe,” he said. “There has to be a common factor that set them off.”

Gwaine glanced around the room. “Could it just be that we’re going further?”

Merlin grimaced. “Maybe,” he said. “I feel like it’s something else. Something specific we’re missing.”

While it was not a pleasant thought, Gwaine knew Merlin was right.

But without any ideas, they were forced to continue, hearts racing and anxiety running high.

For several steps, there was silence and nothing trying to kill them.

Gwaine crossed another white tile.

And a sound filled the room: the same sound, but thousands of it at once.

Gwaine knew that sound: it was the sound of arrows being released.

Merlin did too. He threw out a hand immediately. _“Áblgan!”_

The arrows were flying towards them from all directions in the room. Most of the arrows changed course and avoided - even if just barely - the two of them due to Merlin’s spell.

Most, but not all.

Gwaine shouted as he felt a sudden pain in his shoulder, and he fell to one knee.

Merlin turned to him, eyes wide. _“Gwaine!”_ he shouted as he ran to Gwaine’s side.

Gwaine’s hand hovered shakily over the arrow where it was sticking out of his shoulder. He let out a dry laugh. “We’re not even past the first room,” he said.

“Well I say we’re lucky we even made it this far,” Merlin said, kneeling by Gwaine’s side. He examined the arrow for a moment, brow furled, before he huffed. “It doesn’t look too deep. I can take it out and cauterize the wound, but I won’t be able to do more while we’re in here.”

Gwaine nodded, short. “Just do it,” he grit out through his teeth

Merlin clenched his jaw, before putting one hand to Gwaine’s shoulder and grabbing the arrow with the other.

“One two three!”

Gwaine couldn’t stop the yelp of pain as Merlin yanked the arrow free, and it turned to a low groan when Merlin pressed his hand to the wound.

“ _Geh_ æ _lan.”_

Gwaine took a sharp breath in and grit his teeth as he felt the magic begin to weave the wounded flesh back together.

And after a moment, the sting had lessened considerably, and Gwaine let out a several breaths.

“Did that help?” Merlin asked, taking his hand from the wound.

Gwaine knelt on his knees and rolled his shoulder back. It still twinged, but he could make do. “Yes. Considerably,” he gave Merlin a nod and a smirk. “Thanks.”

Gwaine looked to the arrows that were scattered around the room, and as they started to disappear.

Merlin held up the one in his hand, and it too began to disintegrate in his palm.

Gwaine chuckled wryly. “If only the wounds they caused did that too.”

Merlin mirrored the chuckle, before looking around. “What is it that’s setting them off?”

Gwaine glanced around too, searching for any tripwires or levers.

He looked down.

He was kneeling on a white tile - the same one he had stepped on before the arrows got released.

Then his eyes widened. “I’ve got it.” He looked at Merlin. “It’s the white tiles - they’re what sets off the traps. You stepped on a white one, then there was glass. I stepped on a white one before the axe, and before the arrows.”

“You think that’s it?”

Gwaine nodded. “I’m certain.”

Merlin turned and looked, his eyes tracing the irregular white tiles and where they were strewn across the room. “So we’ll just avoid the white ones,” Merlin said. “Simple.”

Sure enough, making their way across the room after figuring out the secret was fairly simple - there was a point when they could only advance by leaping, but Gwaine hadn’t suffered through Arthur’s rigorous training to not be able to make it, with Merlin easily vaulting across with a flash of gold in his eyes.

They made it across the room entirely, and found themselves staring into a dark hallway of stone.

Gwaine huffed, but he was the first one in, Merlin half a step behind.

But as soon as they were both through, the stones closed behind them, and they were plunged into complete darkness.

Gwaine swore. “Merlin? You still there?” he started, reaching out a hand towards where he last saw him.

“Hang on - just a moment.”

Merlin took in an audible breath.

“ _Heofonleóht.”_

The end of the staff lit, illuminating the passage around them.

Merlin turned back to the wall behind them. He ran his hand over the stones. “I’m guessing we’re not supposed to head back.”

Gwaine hit the wall a couple times with his fist, before huffing. “Seems that way. I don’t think Clara’s back there, anyway.”

They turned back to the unlit hallway before them, and together they walked into the darkness.

Merlin kept his free hand to the wall, his fingers lightly skimming the stones. Gwaine did the same on the opposite wall, examining all he could see for any changes.

For a distance, there was nothing, only the two of them and the magical light in the dark.

Then Gwaine’s hand lost contact with the wall.

He turned to see another passage, forking away from the one they were on.

“Gwaine.”

Gwaine turned.

There was a passage on Merlin’s side too, the hallway splitting into three separate directions.

Merlin held out his light, casting it as far down the hallways as he could.

There was nothing - no identifying marks to distinguish each path from the other.

Merlin met Gwaine’s eyes. “Which way should we go?”

Gwaine hummed in thought, looking down each one. He nodded to the left. “We’ll try this one first.”

Merlin nodded. They both turned to that hallway, took up the same positions they had before, and continued.

It was when they found a second intersection only seconds later that Merlin stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide in realization.

“ _It’s a maze.”_

Gwaine stopped as well. He then shut his eyes and let out a groan. “That explains it.”

Merlin turned to Gwaine. “What should we do? We can’t just keep picking pathways at random and hoping they are the right one.”

Gwaine opened his eyes and hummed in thought. He turned in a circle and peered down each hallway as far as he could. None of them stood out to him. He asked, “Do you know a… a tracking spell? Something that will help us see where we’ve been?”

Merlin thought for a moment. “Maybe,” he said. “Let me try something.” He brought his staff down and held a hand over the top of the crystal. He muttered something in the Old Tongue, and Gwaine saw his eyes flash gold.

Merlin turned the staff over and touched the tip to the ground.

For a moment, nothing.

Then the ground by Merlin’s feet began to glow a faint blue, faint sparkles rising off.

It began to intensify, but not to an overwhelming point.

Merlin swung the staff around, pointing it the direction they had come from.

And Gwaine watched as a faint blue path appeared in the darkness, before turning behind a corner and disappearing.

Merlin turned to Gwaine with a smile. “Like that?”

Gwaine grinned. “Exactly,” he said.

They continued on their path, leaving a faint trail of blue behind them as they went. Whenever they found a turn, they went left.

But, as they expected, they did eventually reach a dead end.

Merlin hummed as he examined the wall with the light of his staff. “I’m not seeing anything to suggest that there’s a puzzle here we need to solve to get out,” he turned back to Gwaine. “We’re going to have to go back.”

Gwaine sighed, and nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly, before turning and retracing his steps along the blue.

There wasn’t much talking as they continued, only occasional sighs when they inevitably found more dead ends, and murmurs about cobwebs to be avoided. It felt almost wrong to talk and break the silence. The darkness closed in on them from all around, and Gwaine never moved more than a few feet from Merlin’s side and the light of his staff.

He didn’t want to imagine what it would have been like to have been in this maze without it.

His eyes were scanning the hallway before them - well, as much as he could in the dark - when he stopped. Had that been a glint of metal ahead?

“Merlin, I see something,” he said, pointing.

Merlin held out his staff to illuminate it.

Merlin’s eyes widened. _“Oh, gods,”_ he breathed.

It was skeleton sitting against the wall ahead of them. Closer inspection revealed basic armor of a helmet and pauldrons, and at its side, Gwaine could see an abandoned sword.

An adventurer like them who had gone in, but never gone out.

They both stared at it for several moments, struck in place.

Gwaine glanced at Merlin in uncertainty. “How many are in here, do you think?”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’d rather not find out. C’mon,” he said, taking another step along the passage. “Unless we want to end up as his friends.”

For several more minutes they walked, both their minds unable to stray from the skeleton they had passed.

A thought occurred to Gwaine as they traveled, and he couldn’t help but voice it. “Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Why is it that whenever we find a body, there’s always the skeleton, maybe a sword or a helmet,” he turned to Merlin in absolute befuddlement, “But never their clothes?”

Merlin blinked in surprise.

Then he clearly couldn’t keep back a smile. “Do you… do you think there’s a creature out there that just eats the clothes of dead adventurers? Not even the adventurers themselves, just their clothes?”

“That, or they’re all adventuring around naked,” Gwaine responded. “Though that might explain why they’re all dead. Can’t be very safe - adventuring around without clothes.”

Merlin laughed, and Gwaine grinned, the simple action of making Merlin laugh helping him fight the feeling of being trapped.

They encountered several more skeletons as they walked (each one lacking clothes, much to Merlin and Gwaine’s both befuddlement and amusement), but they couldn’t afford to wait around and speculate any more about what had happened to them.

It was as they were passing another one, trying not to linger and stare that Gwaine’s foot hit something with a loud metallic _clang._

They both jumped in shock, but once it was clear that there was no threat, Gwaine bent down to take a look.

“Hey, Merlin, bring your light closer.”

Merlin did.

And Gwaine could finally make out what he had kicked: a red shield propped against the wall, with a golden star emblazoned on it.

Gwaine hummed as he examined it, and he rapped it with two knuckles to test it.

“It’s still in pretty good shape,” Gwaine said. “I’d hate to leave it here to rust.” He looked up at Merlin. “What do you think?”

“I think it could be useful,” Merlin said. “If you want it, I say take it.”

Gwaine nodded. He turned back and lifted the shield from the skeleton. A couple finger bones fell out from the straps, and Gwaine grimaced as he turned it over and saw an ulna still strapped in.

“Sorry, mate,” Gwaine said as he put the bone back with the rest of the skeleton, “But I think I need this more than you.”

He straightened to a stand. Merlin leaned his staff against the wall and held the shield for Gwaine as he undid the straps, before putting his arm to it and redoing them around his arm. He grinned at Merlin.

Merlin smiled and rolled his eyes.

Several more minutes passed in darkness and almost silence. The hallways twisted and turned and forked around them, their path a glowing blue trail behind them.

Gwaine grunted in discomfort.

Merlin glanced to him. “Is it your shoulder?”

Gwaine grit his teeth and moved it in a circle. “Yeah. But it’s not that bad.”

Merlin hummed in clear skepticism. Then he huffed. “We’re taking a break. It’ll do us some good.”

Gwaine wanted to argue, anxious to get to Clara as soon as they could, but Merlin sat down on the floor and laid the staff down. He looked up at Gwaine in clear expectation and patted the spot next to him.

Gwaine stared at Merlin.

But then a ghost of a smile passed his face, before he let out a sigh and took the spot next to Merlin. He flicked his hair from his face. “Only a few minutes, though.”

They sat in silence for a bit. Gwaine took the opportunity to shake some pebbles out of his boot, and Merlin only sat with his arms crossed around his knees.

“What if it’s like the minotaur?” Merlin couldn’t help but mutter. “Meant only to keep us trapped here forever.”

Gwaine shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Hierna said that this is a place of _challenges;_ I expect that there is a way out, but it’s very hard to find. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who only traps people and leaves them to die. She wants entertainment. And leaving us to wander in an endless dark maze doesn’t sound very exciting if you ask me.”

“… we’ve already found several skeletons, Gwaine,” Merlin said. “Clearly _they_ didn’t make it out.”

Gwaine wrapped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. “Well, they’re not _us,”_ he said simply. “And we’ve got something they don’t.”

“A lack of self-preservation?”

Gwaine scoffed. _“No._ A noble cause.”

Merlin snorted. “That is _so_ cheesy.”

Gwaine laughed as well. “I am fully aware of its cheesiness, Merlin. Which is why I said it.”

He glanced at Merlin.

Merlin expression had fallen once more, staring ahead with a frown.

Gwaine opened his mouth. He sighed. “… thank you for coming with me,” he said quietly.

Merlin turned to him.

“I hate to think what would have happened had I come here alone. Especially here.”

Merlin smiled. “You’re my friend, Gwaine. We stick together - even through dark mazes filled with skeletons.”

Gwaine chuckled. “And rooms filled with traps meant to kill.”

Merlin smiled for a moment longer -

Then Merlin’s head jolted to look past Gwaine, his expression falling to confusion. “Gwaine, wait,” he turned to him once more. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?”

Merlin stood, taking in a deep breath.

Then he glanced at Gwaine, eyes bright in hope and a smile breaking through. “The air’s not as dusty,” he said

Gwaine’s eyes widened.

And now that he knew it was there, he could smell it too.

Merlin bent down and grabbed his staff as Gwaine stood, and the two of them rushed down the hallway - new vigor brought to their steps.

He reached an intersection and took a couple steps down each one, before turning to the one to the right. “It’s this one,” he said.

Gwaine followed.

There was a dead end, but Merlin ran towards it anyway.

When they got closer, Gwaine was able to make out a thin sliver of light in the wall.

Merlin put his hand to the wall and pushed forward.

It swung away, letting in natural light and revealing a new passage before them.

Gwaine smiled widely. “Well done, mate.”

Merlin grinned. He flicked his staff and quenched the light. “Now let’s just hope this is the right way.”

The new passage looked unimposing, simply with a straight path forward into a larger room - with natural light and a staircase.

They shared a quick smile, before taking a step forward

Suddenly they heard the sound of something screeching.

Gwaine looked around wildly. _“What was that?”_

They heard a _thud,_ then a clicking sound.

The walls to either side of them lurched forward.

Merlin and Gwaine both jolted in shock. Merlin held his staff at the ready, and Gwaine grabbed the grip of his sword, waiting to see if something would emerge.

But the the walls themselves began to _move,_ a horrible screeching sound filling the air and their ears as the walls closed in.

“Run!” Gwaine exclaimed, turning towards the room ahead.

The two of them bolted for the lit room.

Almost there -

“ _Gwaine, stop!”_

Merlin yanked back on Gwaine’s elbow barely a moment before he went tumbling headfirst into the pit before them - the pit he hadn’t seen in his mad dash.

Gwaine stared down at it for a moment - too far down to make out the bottom - before looking back down the hallway they’d just come from.

The door was still open, and if they ran then _maybe_ they would be able to make it.

But that would mean entering the maze again, and losing the chance to find out what was beyond these stairs.

Merlin had the same thoughts. He met Gwaine’s gaze. “We’re going to have to jump.”

“ _Jump?!”_ Gwaine yelped, turning to look across the pit once more. “There’s no way we can make that!”

Merlin grit his teeth. He glanced behind them, before meeting Gwaine’s eyes again. “Do you trust me?”

Gwaine stared at him.

He glanced to the walls - still advancing and coming ever closer.

He met Merlin’s eyes and nodded. “You know I do.”

“Then jump when I say jump,” Merlin said, taking a couple steps backwards and his gaze fixed on the other end.

Gwaine followed, trying to ignore that every part of him was screaming _bad idea._

Merlin’s eyes flicked from one end of the gap to the other, before he looked to Gwaine. “On three.” He turned back forward, ready to run. “One, two, three!”

They ran straight towards the gap.

“ _Jump!”_

Gwaine did, leaping into the open air before them.

He began to fall.

“ _Floterian!”_

A sudden, invisible force met them as they fell - throwing them upwards once more.

Gwaine flailed as he flew, thrown off kilter.

He only had a moment to brace himself before he landed on the other side.

He rolled across the ground for a few feet, before turning back to see what happened to Merlin.

The spell had thrown Merlin higher - his arc more narrowed and peaked that Gwaine’s had been.

Gwaine’s eyes widened - he was going to miss the ledge.

Merlin’s hand out -

Gwaine caught him just in time.

His shoulder wrenched, and he couldn’t keep in a shout of pain. But he grit his teeth and pulled Merlin up. Merlin tossed his staff onto the ledge with Gwaine, before finding a handhold in the wall and pulling himself up.

They watched as the walls closed, a deep rumbling _boom_ filling the room and strong enough that they could feel in their chests.

Merlin flopped onto the ground, staring at the ceiling and his breathing labored.

Gwaine didn’t move for a moment, before he too rolled onto to his back.

Then he began to laugh.

Merlin joined in, laughing at the ceiling and each other. He took in a couple breaths, before he said, “Let’s _never_ do that again.”

Gwaine laughed again. “Agreed.”

They spent another moment lying there, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. Then Gwaine huffed. “Right,” he said, swinging his arms and sitting himself up. “Not going to make any more progress just lying here.” He stood, held out a hand to Merlin to help him up, before the two of turned to face the stairway before them, and they began to climb.

Thankfully, the stairs only went up a single flight, before they found themselves in another hallway. The hallway had a singular course - a much appreciated change after the maze - with no offshoots or doorways for them to turn to. They kept their respective weapons at the ready, each watching for new threats, but several minutes passed with nothing.

Merlin asked, “How much farther, do you think?”

Gwaine shook his head. He lifted an arm to move a cobweb out of the way. “I have no idea. My mother never mentioned anything about mazes, or giant crevices that could swallow you whole.”

Merlin hummed and nodded. “It’s possible they weren’t there before. I wouldn’t be surprised if Hierna had added new things after your father made it through. Mazes, crevices. Maybe there’s even a dark forest we have to travel through hidden in here.”

“You have a point there,” Gwaine responded. He then glanced at Merlin in amused and exaggerated suspicion. “Making plans for your own tower of traps?”

Merlin scoffed in amusement. _“No._ Besides, who would want to come to a tower to visit me?”

“Well, I would.”

“Even if it was rigged and trapped?”

“ _Especially_ if it was rigged and trapped. I know you would never hurt me, so it would make for a fun challenge. We could make a game of it: I make it through, you take me out for drinks; you vex me, and I’ll take you.”

Merlin laughed. Before turning and looking at Gwaine in narrow eyed amusement. “Is that a deal?”

Gwaine raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

Merlin laughed again, before he nodded. “Fine. _Someday,_ maybe after I become… I don’t know, _Court Sorcerer_ or something, I’ll get my own tower and rig it with traps just for you.”

“Deal.”

The path ahead didn’t have much in terms of challenges - real or the ones that Merlin and Gwaine began to think up for Merlin’s hypothetical future _Sorcerer’s Tower -_ and they had begun to relax a little bit and just continue ahead.

They entered a room - small, but with two arched ways to leave. Gwaine turned to Merlin to ask which way he thought they should go -

And a wall appeared and closed off the pathway behind them.

Merlin and Gwaine both rounded, immediately once more on alert.

Gwaine said, “Well that’s not a good sign.”

Then there was a noise from above.

“ _Look out!”_ Merlin cried.

Gwaine felt a shove.

He stumbled into the far wall.

He only just turned back in time to see a wall drop between him and Merlin - cutting him off completely.

Gwaine’s heart dropped as well.

“Merlin?!” he cried out, launching back to the wall that had just fallen. “Merlin, are you alright?!”

“ _I’m fine!”_ came Merlin’s muffled voice, and Gwaine sighed in relief. _“I’m going to see if I can blast this wall down, step back!”_

Gwaine did, taking several steps away and to the side and holding his shield at the ready. “Ready!”

There was silence for a moment.

Then Merlin shouted something in the Old Tongue.

Gwaine heard the spell hit, a loud _bang_ filling the hallway.

But there was no change - no cracks or beveling in the wall.

Merlin swore. _“It did nothing! That’s the strongest one I know! Hang on, I’m going to try again.”_

“Wait, Merlin!” Gwaine called back. “Do you see a light ahead?”

Gwaine could - down a ways through the arch on his side, Gwaine could see what looked like the next room.

“ _Yeah.”_

“Do you think maybe it’s the same room?”

Merlin was quiet for a moment. _“I don’t know,”_ he responded. _“I feel like it wouldn’t have separated us if it was.”_

Gwaine grimaced. “You have a point, mate. Should we chance it?”

“… _I don’t think we have much of a choice.”_

Gwaine grit his teeth, before nodding out of habit. He put his hand to the wall. “I’m heading down. I’ll see if I can make my way to you. See you on the other side.”

“ _See you on the other side,”_ Merlin’s muffled voice responded, followed by the sound of muffled footsteps.

Until they were gone.

Gwaine hesitated for a moment longer, before he let out a huff and followed the path.

The end of the hallway, as it turned out only held a small room before continuing on. There was only the door he had entered and the one across, was Gwaine disappointed but unsurprised that it hadn’t been that easy to reunite with Merlin.

But, just standing around wouldn’t do it either, so Gwaine huffed and continued on.

After several minutes, he encountered a simple, wooden double door.

He pushed it open, slowly, and sword raised just in case.

Inside was a large room. Lavish, really, with a decorated chandelier hanging in the middle, and various paintings of courtiers - Gwaine didn’t recognize any - lining the edges.

There was another door at the other end.

Gwaine glanced around. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, and chanced a step in.

His footsteps were the only sound as he walked forward, one hand to the door behind him to hold it open.

Then he paused.

The floor was a checkered pattern of black and white.

Gwaine reached out with his sword. First he tapped a black tile with the tip, before stopping and listening.

Nothing.

He tapped a white tile.

Still nothing.

Not wanting to risk it, Gwaine then reached out a foot and did the same thing with the tips of his toes.

And when there was nothing, Gwaine let out a relieved breath.

He glanced behind himself into the hallway once more, before huffing and stepping forward into the room and removing his hand from the door.

The door shut behind him.

He took several steps in, glancing around and bouncing his sword in his hand in preparation of an attack.

He reached halfway across the room.

And then a bit further than that, with seemingly nothing going to happen.

But then Gwaine heard a growl.

He had only a moment to turn and raise his shield before he was struck.

Gwaine staggered back from the blow, before regaining his feet and taking several steps backwards to distance himself from whatever had attacked him.

He lowered his shield to look.

For a moment, Gwaine thought that it was the not-a-wolf from the woods once more: quadrupedal, low to the ground, and clearly some kind of animal. Just like the not-a-wolf in the woods, with an indeterminate form and smoking around the edges.

But then Gwaine realized that it wasn’t a wolf, but a _lion._

Or, not-a-lion, rather.

Gwaine swung his sword in an arc, shield in front of him, and bouncing on his toes as they stared each other down.

The not-a-lion growled at him, fangs bared, before pouncing at Gwaine, claws out.

Its claws dug straight into the shield, the sound of ripping metal piercing straight into Gwaine’s ears.

Gwaine grimaced for only a moment, before shoving the shield out and forcing the not-a-lion off.

It stumbled backwards, increasing the distance between it and Gwaine.

Gwaine didn’t waste the chance. He bolted straight for the door, grabbed the handle and pulled.

_The door was locked._

Gwaine cursed violently, and only had a moment’s warning before the not-a-lion pounced.

Gwaine rolled out of the way, and heard the not-a-lion ram into the door barely a moment after he moved.

He moved to a crouch, and watched as the not-a-lion shook its head to clear it from its door-slamming-induced daze.

A glint of metal around the not-a-lion’s neck caught Gwaine’s eye, and he took in a sharp breath.

_A key._

So much for getting out of here without getting too close to it.

Gwaine swung his sword in an arc, deepened his stance, and started stepping towards the middle of the room - where he would have the full range of his sword.

The not-a-lion followed, and for several minutes it was a back-and-forth - the not-a-lion would attack, Gwaine would block with is sword or shield and try to retaliate.

He tried to angle the blows so it would strike through the chain around the not-a-lion’s neck and free the key.

But the not-a-lion was fast, and it seemed to know exactly what Gwaine was trying to do. It dodged nearly every blow, and when it did take a hit it only growled and stumbled for a moment before getting back on its feet and trying once more.

The not-a-lion pounced, and Gwaine rolled out of the way.

But his cape billowed out behind him.

The not-a-lion bit down on the edge of his cape.

Gwaine’s cape’s strap caught him in the throat, the not-a-lion pulling him in.

He frantically grabbed the buckle at his neck and undid it.

The not-a-lion tumbled backwards as Gwaine bolted forwards, freed from his cape and the not-a-lion’s grip. He turned around, shield up and sword out, to see the not-a-lion attacking the cape, teeth tearing into the fabric and the claws ripping it to ribbons.

Oh, Arthur wouldn’t be happy about that.

Gwaine stared at it, wondering how best to approach so he could deal a final blow without receiving one himself.

Then he glanced up.

The not-a-lion was right under the chandelier.

Gwaine found the rope holding it up, and followed it to the anchor just down the wall to his right.

Gwaine turned to the not-a-lion again - still occupied with the red fabric that used to be Gwaine’s cloak - before he took a quiet step in the direction of the anchor.

Gwaine had only taken a few steps when the not-a-lion seemed to realize that the cape no longer had Gwaine in it. It straightened with a growl, before swinging its head around.

Its gaze landed on Gwaine, and it growled once more.

Gwaine inched his way to the rope - the not-a-lion slowly turning with him, teeth bared and a low growl coming from its throat.

Gwaine didn’t run, still taking the measured pace as he got closer. He tightened his grip on his sword, ready to swing it at a moment’s notice.

Just a couple steps more -

The not-a-lion lunged forward.

Gwaine cut the rope, slamming his sword through it and into the wall.

The chandelier fell.

And it hit its mark, landing right on top of the not-a-lion and crushing it under its weight.

Gwaine couldn’t help but let out a _whoop_ in victory. He pulled his sword from the wall.

But then the not-a-lion shifted.

It growled, and began pushing itself back up.

Gwaine swore - cursing the chandelier for doing _nothing_ to help.

But, it _had._

The not-a-lion straightened to its feet, and Gwaine watched as a glint of metal fell from around its neck.

He heard a _chink_ as the key hit the floor.

The not-a-lion seemed not to have noticed, only rounding towards Gwaine with new anger.

Gwaine’s mind was racing. If a chandelier falling on it didn’t kill it, he didn’t think his sword would do it either. He needed to get the not-a-lion away from the key before he could grab it, and preferably keep the not-a-lion there while he grabbed the key and went for the door.

He spotted a painting next to the door he had entered through.

An idea formed.

Gwaine darted towards the painting.

Sure enough the not-a-lion gave chase.

When he was close to the painting, he rounded and held is sword up.

The not-a-lion closed the distance between them -

He sliced down.

The not-a-lion howled as it was struck, and fell to its front knees.

Gwaine didn’t waste a moment. He grabbed the painting from beside him and smashed it over the not-a-lion’s head, breaking straight through the fabric.

Sure enough, it tried to claw through, but its legs got stuck and it growled in frustration.

Gwaine didn’t want to stick around to find out how long it would take for it to get out.

He made for the shattered chandelier in the middle of the room, and frantically looked for the key among the broken glass.

There.

He grabbed for it with the arm bearing his shield - hissing as he shoved his hand through the broken glass - but he managed to pick it up and bolted straight for the door.

He shoved the key into the lock and began to twist it, just as he heard the sound of shattering wood, followed by running pawsteps.

“C’mon c’mon - _yes!”_ Gwaine exclaimed when the key turned.

He shoved open the door and darted through, before turning around and slamming it shut. He heard it click as it locked.

The not-a-lion rammed into the other side a moment later, the entire door shaking and rattling on its hinges. Gwaine didn’t move, pressing his shoulder against it and breathing heavily as he waited to see what the not-a-lion would do. It growled in frustration, before Gwaine heard its footsteps recede.

Then there was silence.

He waited a minute. Two.

When he heard nothing else from the room, Gwaine slowly straightened. He kept his back pressed to the door as he glanced around. There was a single window to one side with a table underneath, and across the hallway from himself he could see a staircase that wound up into darkness.

There was a candelabra on the table under the window.

It took a bit of trial and error, but he managed to position the metal frame through the door handles as an extra precaution.

And then he took the table and pushed it against the door for good measure. Would it hold? Gwaine hoped so, but he’d rather not hang around to find out.

So, he took in a breath, before turning to the stairs as he sheathed his sword. And he began to climb.

As he climbed, Gwaine reached underneath his chainmail and ripped off a piece of his gambeson, before tying it around his scraped up hand to stifle the few drops of blood still . Not ideal, but it would have to do for now.

The staircase twisted around itself, circling as it climbed higher and higher. There were no windows, and the distance between torches was enough that Gwaine was almost in complete darkness between them.

But still he climbed.

The minutes melded into each other, no change marked in them at all. Only endless stairs and intermittent torches with no changes in them.

Gwaine stopped and huffed. He glanced around himself. The staircase looked exactly as it had for the last several turns and minutes, without even windows to look out.

“Merlin!” Gwaine shouted, though he knew it was pointless. “Clara! Are you there?!”

Only the last remains of his echoed shout responded.

Gwaine sighed. He looked up the stairs as far as he could, before turning and looking back down.

He could begin to head down. That was an option.

But what of the lion? And what of Merlin? Gwaine had to assume that Merlin was facing something similar - a seemingly endless staircase that only climbed higher and higher.

Would he keep going?

They still hadn’t found Clara, and Gwaine only knew of the one way ahead.

So gritting his teeth, Gwaine forced himself to take the next step upward, and the one after that. And the one after that.

Until a soft breeze crossed his face.

Gwaine lifted his head from where it had dropped when he was unable to face staring at the never-ending stairs in front of him.

Ahead, he could see the soft white light of sun instead of the harsh orange of a torch.

Gwaine’s steps hastened.

He summited the stairs, and found himself in a small room - sparsely decorated as most of this castle was, but with a worn rug in the middle of the floor and a couple windows showing the storm-torrent sea and sky outside.

There was a door across at the other end.

But before he could take a step, he heard something behind him.

Gwaine rounded, sword out -

Only to find Merlin there, staff at the ready.

They both blinked at the other, before Merlin let out a relieved laugh. “Hello, Gwaine!”

Gwaine stared for a moment longer, before he lowered his sword with a smile and a relieved breath. He pulled Merlin into a hug, Merlin returning it tightly. Gwaine laughed. “Oh, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re alright.”

Gwaine leaned back, smiling in relief.

But then his smile and heart sunk.

Merlin had a couple fresh claw marks raking their way down his left cheek.

“ _Oh, Merlin,”_ Gwaine breathed.

“What? Oh, that,” Merlin said, lightly touching the claw marks. “They sting a little bit but it’s not too bad.”

“What happened?”

“I had to fight a huge bird,” Merlin responded, wiping a bit of blood from his cheek. “You?”

Gwaine held up his shield to show Merlin the new gashes in it. “Lion.”

Merlin winced, before looking over Gwaine. “Are you injured?”

“Not much; better than you, at least. I’m sorry I wasn’t there -”

Merlin shook his head. His eyes glowed a soft gold as he ran his fingers over the claw marks. “It snuck up on me. I don’t think it would have made a difference had you been there.” Merlin looked up - the marks notably less red now - and then he looked over Gwaine in narrow-eyed scrutiny. “You lost your cape.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Gwaine responded. “The lion seemed to think that it made a wonderful plaything. It’s probably ripped to shreds by now.”

Merlin grimaced.

But Gwaine only smirked. “Better than _me_ being ripped to shreds, though, right?”

Merlin laughed. _“That_ I very much agree with.” Then his gaze landed on Gwaine’s hand. His face fell again. “But apparently your hand _was,”_ he said, reaching forward and taking it so he could examine it. “You _said_ you weren’t injured.”

“Merlin, it’s fine, really,” Gwaine said. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Merlin’s lips pressed into a line, then he sighed. “If you say so. But once we get out of here, I’m going to sit you down and take a look at it.”

Gwaine smirked. “Fine by me.”

Merlin dropped Gwaine’s hand then. He looked behind Gwaine and spotted the door, before meeting Gwaine’s eyes again. “Ready to keep going?”

Gwaine huffed, and turned back ahead. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said. “The sooner we find Clara, the sooner we can get out of here.”

Merlin took the few scant steps to cross the room, and approached the door.

Merlin tried the knob. It was locked.

He grimaced, before he murmured a spell while waving his hand over the locked doorknob.

They heard it click.

Gwaine stepped forward. “I’m going first,” he said, putting his hand on the handle.

He twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

It was a bedroom - that much was obvious. A bed sat against the far wall, next to an open window letting in a gentle breeze and the sound of the sea far, far below it. A vanity sat near that, with a sparsely filled bookshelf next to it.

Gwaine’s brow furled as he glanced around the room. Who’s-?

A sudden _clang_ rang out.

Gwaine fell to his knees, hand to his head. “Ow! What the _fu-”_

He turned to see what had hit him.

His eyes widened.

Behind the door was a woman, a metal pitcher in hand as she stared down at Gwaine with an angry and shocked expression.

A woman whom Gwaine hadn’t seen in ten years, but recognized instantly.

Gwaine felt frozen in place as he looked up at her. She’d changed with time - just as he had - but she had the same face, the same dark hair.

It was his sister.

_Clarissant._

Merlin, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem as Gwaine did.

“Gwaine! Gwaine, are you alright?!” he exclaimed. “What’s -”

It was then he spotted Clara, and Merlin stopped in surprise as well.

Clara’s expression fell to shock. _“Gwaine?”_ she whispered.

Gwaine stood slowly, neither of them speaking and only staring at the sibling they hadn’t seen in ten years.

But then Gwaine recovered. “Clara -” he started, reaching a hand towards her.

Then Gwaine remembered Guiromelant’s words.

_Even if it seems you have succeeded, you must not let your guard down._

Gwaine unsheathed his sword and held it up between himself and Clara.

Clara’s eyes widened, and she took a step back with a sharp inhale.

“Gwaine-!” Merlin started behind him, sounding appalled.

But Gwaine only calmly held up a hand.

“Tell me something only my sister would know,” Gwaine said, not lowering his sword.

Clara looked at Gwaine as if he’d gone mad for a moment. Then realization dawned on her face. She took in a breath. “… You have a scar on your stomach from when you were eleven,” she started. “We were chasing each other through a field. You tried to tackle me, and I dodged. You fell to the ground and impaled yourself on a rock.”

Gwaine’s eyes widened, but he lowered his sword a tad.

Clara continued, “You used to call Gareth _Reth,_ and would constantly walk around with him on your shoulders - I swear he was up there more often than he walked by himself.”

Gwaine lowered his sword entirely - staring wide-eyed at _Clara._

At _his sister._

“Clara -” Gwaine started once more, taking a step forward.

But Clara stepped back with a glare, pitcher raised to the ready.

“How can I trust _you?”_ she demanded in return. “What if this is a trick? What if _you’re_ Hierna, here to get my hopes up before you do away with me?”

Gwaine stuttered for a moment, trying to think what to say.

Then he pulled his necklace out from under his chainmail.

Clara’s eyes widened in shock.

“This was our father’s necklace - with our mother’s wedding ring,” Gwaine said. “Mother used to wear it everyday. I took it the night you- … the night I left.”

Clara’s anger turned to disbelief. She stuttered for a moment, and the metal pitcher slipped from her hands and fell to the floor with a second _clang._

Clara stuttered, still trying to find words.

But she managed to say, “It _is_ you.”

And she lurched forward and pulled Gwaine into a hug.

Gwaine didn’t move for a moment - rooted in place by surprise - but then he dropped his sword and returned the hug. Clara seemed smaller that Gwaine remembered - perhaps he had grown taller or broader since he had seen her - but her hugs still felt the same: sure and strong.

Gwaine’s heart clenched, and it was only then he realized how much he had missed them.

Clara took in a shaky breath, before she stepped back so she could see Gwaine once more.

“ _You’re alive,”_ Clara said, breathless, looking Gwaine over. “I… I’d almost thought for certain you were dead. It’d been so long, I -”

A sudden thought occurred to Clara, and her eyes widened in horror.

She looked at Merlin, then behind him into the hallway. A wounded noise escaped her, before she turned back to Gwaine and gripped his shoulders in a white-knuckle grip. _“Where is he? Where’s Gareth?!”_

“He’s safe,” Gwaine said immediately. “He’s in Camelot. He’s alright. He’s safe.”

Clara blinked up at Gwaine for a moment longer.

Then she slumped in relief, one hand coming to her mouth. _“Oh, thank the gods,”_ she murmured. “But, h-how did he find you?”

“Purely on accident,” Gwaine said with a wry smirk. “I think he was just looking for someone to help. He didn’t plan on finding me.”

Clara was quiet for a second, then she let out a nervous laugh. “I suppose that worked out - better than I’d hoped.”

She then glanced at Merlin, and gave her head a quick shake as if to clear it. “Oh, I’m sorry. Clara,” she said, holding out her hand to him.

Merlin smiled as he took it. “Merlin. It’s nice to finally meet Gwaine’s sister.”

Clara smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Merlin.” She then examined the staff in Merlin’s hand, before asking as calmly as if she was simply asking where he was from, “Are you a sorcerer?”

Merlin stiffened immediately. But then he swallowed and nodded slowly. But then his nods grew in speed, and he smiled as he said with conviction, “Yes - I am.”

“And a damn good one at that,” Gwaine said. “Without him I never would have made it this far.”

Merlin ducked his head with a small smile and his cheeks flushing - clearly unused to his magic being complimented like that. Gwaine made a silent promise to himself he would do better about that.

Gwaine turned back to Clara - and noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

He looked down

Then his eyes widened.

“Clara -” he started in shock, reaching out and taking one of her hands so he could look at her wrists.

Her wrists were ringed with skin that had been rubbed raw, and dark bruises blooming out beyond that.

She’d been chained. And recently.

“Hierna didn’t take too kindly to Gareth’s escape,” she explained. “She wanted to make sure I knew she didn’t approve.”

“Let me take a look,” Merlin said, leaning his staff against the wall before stepping forward with his hands out.

Clara held her wrist out to Merlin, and he began to examine the injuries with a physician’s eye, before holding a hand over the wound and murmuring something, his eyes beginning to glow gold.

Gwaine quickly glanced around the room once more.

He paused. Then he walked closer to take a better look.

Above the bed on the wall and scratched into the wall, Gwaine could make out what must have been about a thousand tally marks. Rows and rows upon rows of them.

Scratched into the wall beneath the final tally, he saw the name _Anna_ in his mother’s handwriting.

But next to it and in a handwriting Gwaine knew wasn’t his mother’s and that he had never seen before, was the name _Loth._

He heard Merlin behind him. “Okay, that should help. Gwaine, are you - Gwaine?”

But Gwaine didn’t respond, his attention fixed solely on the two words in front of him. Slowly, with a hand shaking more than he would have thought, he reached out and put his fingers to the names.

His mother’s name written in her hand, and his father’s in his.

He heard steps, and a moment later found his sister by his side.

“This is where they met,” Clara murmured. “Right here in this tower. This is where father found mother while she was imprisoned.”

Gwaine took in a short breath. He looked at Clara, jaw working as he tried to say something, but nothing coming out.

Then he turned around and took in the room with new eyes.

This? This was his mother’s room? The same room she had told him about when he was younger, in between warnings of Hierna and Canguin?

He looked at the bookcase - books of history, mostly - and stepped to it.

“Were some of these hers?”

Clara shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know. They were here when Gareth and I arrived.”

Gwaine stared at the books for a moment longer, before looking around the room once more and turning slowly.

It was almost too easy to imagine his mother there. Sitting at the desk and writing, maybe reading something as she laid down on the bed, scratching another tally into the wall as the sun set on another day.

Sitting at the window and looking out, longing to be released -

Gwaine took in a shaky breath. But then he cleared his throat and willed the stinging in his eyes to abate. “Well,” he started. He turned around and picked up his sword, before turning to his sister. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Absolutely,” Clara said, not even sparing a moment to grab anything before she ran out of the room.

Merlin and Gwaine followed, and found Clara standing in the next room and glaring at the two staircases. “I don’t know which one to take.”

Gwaine asked, “Do you know of a third way?”

Clara shook her head. “Before I got Gareth out, there was only the one.”

Gwaine hummed. “Well, Merlin came out of one, I came out of the other. I _trapped_ the lion I had to face, but I didn’t kill it. For all I know it’s still down there.”

Merlin thought as he considered this. “I killed the bird,” he said. “So…” Merlin took a step towards the stairs he had emerged from.

“Wait, Merlin,” Gwaine grabbed Merlin’s shoulder and stopped him. “We need to think about this.”

“Why?” Merlin asked. He gestured to the two staircases. “We know the bird I faced is dead, and you said you only trapped your lion.”

“But what about Guiromelant’s warning?” Gwaine responded. “He told us the path that seems easiest will be our doom. And it seems to me that picking the path where we think the creature is already dealt with appears to be the easiest.”

Merlin’s brow creased in thought. “You have a point there,” he said. He took a moment before he asked, “But how do we know this is what he was referring to? And how do we even know his warning was a true one?”

“Clara?” Gwaine started, turning to her. “What do you think?”

Clara blinked - as if she hadn’t expected to be asked. Her brow creased as she thought. “You say Guiromelant warned you against taking an easier path?”

Gwaine nodded. “He told us the path that seems easiest will most certainly be our doom.”

Clara hummed, clearly thinking this over as she glanced between the two paths. But then she pressed her lips into a line and gave a short nod. “I trust Guiromelant,” she said. “I say we go with the lion.”

Gwaine was taken aback. “You trust Guiromelant?”

“During harsh storms, Hierna lets him inside the castle. She doesn’t want him being sucked out to sea and forcing her to find a new ferryman,” she said. “We’ve spoken. He hates Hierna almost as much as we do, but he’s cursed to serve her.”

Merlin looked surprised. “He came all the way up here?”

Clara shook her head. “We had more freedom, before Gareth escaped - it’s how I got Gareth out. The traps would deactivate for us - at least, until the first few rooms. And then they were amplified, all to keep us in here. After Gareth got out… she locked me in there. This is the first time I’ve been out since.”

Gwaine mulled over this, before glancing to his companions once more. “We’re in agreement, then?”

Merlin and Clara both nodded.

Gwaine then smirked wryly. “Well, if we’re wrong, I suppose we’ll just have to work together.”

And with that, Gwaine began descending down the stairs, Merlin and Clara behind him.

After a minute or so of silence, Clara spoke up.

“… what have you been doing, Gwaine? It’s been ten years, after all.”

“… I’ve been traveling,” Gwaine responded. “I’ve been exploring the other kingdoms. Then a couple years ago, I settled down in Camelot.”

“Camelot?” Clara questioned. “Really? I never would have taken you for one to stay there. Why?”

“It’s where I met Merlin.”

“Oh?” Clara sounded very confused. She turned to look up at Merlin. “You’re a _sorcerer_ living in Camelot?”

“Told you it was odd,” Gwaine interjected.

Merlin grimaced. “It’s a long story.”

“So you’ve said,” Gwaine said.

Merlin continued, “Yes, I’m a sorcerer, but I’m also the Court Physician’s apprentice, and the king’s manservant.”

“The king’s manservant?” Clara questioned. She turned to Gwaine. “Have you met the king, then, Gwaine?”

“I’m actually,” Gwaine cleared his throat, “I’m actually one of his knights.”

Clara nearly tumbled down the stairs in surprise, but she righted herself soon enough. “You’re a _knight?_ I thought - I thought you _abhorred_ knighthood. You said that you would never become one! That you would never serve a noble for as long as you lived.”

Gwaine turned back and looked up to Clara behind him on the stairs. He said, “I got it through my own ability - not through nepotism. Also, I haven’t told him; as far as he’s concerned, I am common-born. He… Arthur’s different than most nobles. He may be a pompous arse sometimes, but he’s a decent man. He respects his people a great deal and wants to do what’s best for them.”

Clara seemed to consider this. “… you respect him then?”

Gwaine laughed. _“He_ doesn’t seem to think so, but… yeah. I do.”

The climb down the stairs was much faster than the climb up had been, and they soon found themselves at the bottom, back where Gwaine had found himself after facing the not-a-lion.

“Here we are,” Gwaine said gesturing to the door.

The table and the candelabra hadn’t moved, still holding the door closed. It was a promising sign at the very least: the not-a-lion hadn’t broken through.

For all any of them knew, it could still be waiting on the other side.

“Here.” Gwaine reached into his boot and pulled out the small dagger he kept there. He held it out to Clara. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. You know how to use it, right?”

Clara nodded as she took it. She said, “Keep the pointy end away from yourself and only stick it in things you don’t like.”

Gwaine laughed, and a small smile broke through Clara’s face as well.

Merlin, however, looked confused. “Where’d you get that? We were forced to give up our weapons but one!”

“What Guiromelant doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Gwaine said. “Besides - _I_ haven’t used it once, and now _Clara’s_ using it. _Technically,_ I haven’t broken the one weapon rule.”

Merlin blinked, clearly uncertain how to take that.

Then he shook his head as if to clear it. “If you say so.”

Gwaine laughed, before stepping to the door. He moved the table out of the way, and hovered his hand over the candelabra, before hesitating.

Gwaine turned to Merlin. “Merlin, can you check-?”

Merlin nodded, already stepping forward. He murmured a word, and his eyes began to glow as he put a palm to the door. For a minute, he didn’t move. “I’m not sensing anything,” Merlin murmured. He leaned towards the door and put his ear to it, eyes still glowing gold.

Merlin listened for several moments, his brow creased. Then he leaned back and the gold faded from his eyes. “I don’t hear anything either,” he said. He glanced at Gwaine. “It could be gone.”

Gwaine huffed. “I’m not counting on it,” he said, drawing his sword once more.

Gwaine yanked the candelabra free and set it aside. He put his hand on the handle. He glanced to Merlin and Clara. “Ready?”

Merlin nodded, tightening his grip on his staff. Clara nodded as well, holding Gwaine’s knife in front of her.

“Okay. On three. One. Two. Three!”

Gwaine shoved the door open and rushed inside.

Merlin followed alongside Clara, and all three of them quickly scoured the room.

It was clear they were in the right place - Gwaine could see the places where the lion’s claws had gouged the floor, the smashed table and paintings scattered all across the room.

And in the middle of it all, Gwaine could see his red cape, still lying there on the floor.

But there was nothing - no lion made of magic ready to attack them.

They waited a moment, and when nothing happened, Gwaine lowered his sword.

And when nothing else occurred, Gwaine sheathed it before stepping forward and picking up his cape from the floor. He let out a laugh. “I thought I’d lost this for good.”

Merlin snorted. “I’m glad you didn’t - those are expensive and Arthur wouldn’t have been happy to give you another one.”

Gwaine shook out his cape, ridding it of some of the dust that had accumulated from the castle around them, before grabbing the edge and examining the claw marks there.

Merlin came up behind him. He grimaced. “Those look bad.”

Gwaine grimaced as well. “Yeah… I might need a new one anyway. But hey,” he nudged Merlin’s shoulder with his. “Proof of what I was saying, right? Not to mention this will make for an excellent story.”

He only spared a moment to swing it around his shoulders and redo the buckle in front, the torn cloak hanging down behind him, and then they were rushing to the other side.

The door opened with a murmured word and a flash of gold from Merlin, and they hurried through, making their way quickly down the darkened hallway, until they could see -

Merlin groaned. “I thought we said we weren’t ever going to do this again,” he said upon seeing the giant crevice they had thrown each other over up ahead.

The other side was clear now, and they could see the door into the maze - still open and waiting.

Merlin sighed, before turning to Gwaine with an expression of resignation. “Jump when I say jump?”

Gwaine huffed, before giving his head a shake. “Looks like it,” he said, taking a couple steps backwards.

Clara glanced between them, her expression falling to confusion and also concern. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“We have to throw ourselves across,” Gwaine explained. “It’s how we made it before -”

“No!” Clara protested loudly. “You don’t have to do that!”

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

Clara straightened, and she looked smug. “As a matter of fact,” she said, “I do.”

And with that, Clara turned to the wall, and began to examine the bricks.

“Hierna doesn’t want to deal with her own traps,” Clara explained, her hands running along the wall. “She always makes a failsafe. Gareth figured out the one for this room and explained it to me. So just… one moment… let’s see… ah ha, here it is!”

She pushed in on a brick.

And a solid walkway appeared before them, sliding into place with a loud _thud._

“We need to hurry,” Clara said, hiking up her skirt and running across the path. “They only last for a few seconds.”

Merlin and Gwaine didn’t need another hint. They sprinted across the bridge as quickly as they could. Clara made it across, as did Merlin.

Gwaine was half a step away when the bridge disappeared, the foot behind him suddenly losing purchase and plunging down. But Merlin and Clara caught his arms and pulled him to safety.

Gwaine let out a labored yet relieved breath, before he nodded at them in thanks. He turned to look at the dark pit.

“I really hate this pit.”

Merlin laughed in agreement.

Then suddenly there was a screech and a thud, followed by a ticking noise.

The walls began to close in.

Gwaine huffed - more out of annoyance than anything - but without a word the three of them ran towards the entrance to the maze, still open and waiting from when Merlin and Gwaine had left it earlier.

They made it in, and the walls closed shut behind them, enveloping them in darkness once more.

Merlin held out his hand and said a single word.

And the blue trail he and Gwaine had created earlier appeared before them.

Merlin lighted the end of his staff once more, and together the three of them stepped into the dark maze.

Finding their way out was much easier than finding their way through. Gwaine grabbed an abandoned sword from within, mentioning he had an idea for how to get out when the reached the entrance. Within only a few minutes, they passed the skeleton Gwaine had taken the shield from - Gwaine taking a moment to _thank_ the skeleton, of all things - and within even less than that, they found themselves where Merlin had started the path.

And a few minutes after that, they found themselves by the door to let them in.

Gwaine stepped forward. He wedged the old sword into the seam between the doors, then turned to Merlin. “Help me out?”

Merlin nodded, his staff forward and at the ready. “What are you thinking?”

“Strengthen the sword, then force the doors open.”

Merlin considered this for a moment, before he nodded. He put a hand to the blade. _“Forþgestrangian .”_

His eyes still glowing gold, he grabbed the hilt over Gwaine’s hands, and the two of them began to lever the sword and force the doors apart.

Clara added her weight as well, and the door slowly but surely creaked open.

Gwaine lifted a foot and pushed out until the gap between the doors was wide enough to fit through. He looked at Clara and Merlin tilted his head. “Come on.”

Clara climbed over his leg, then Merlin. Once they were clear, Gwaine jumped out of the doorway.

The doors closed with a resounding _thud._

Gwaine quickly scoured the room: sure enough, it was the first room they had entered, with the irregular white and black tiles, completely unmarred from the traps they had set off earlier.

The front doors were open - the sound of the sea leaking through, and all of them able to make out the cloudy sky beyond.

“Avoid the white tiles,” Gwaine warned Clara, holding out a hand and helping her over one. “Each one activates a trap.”

Clara nodded, lifting her skirts and easily avoiding another.

They made their way across the room as quickly as they could, avoiding the white tiles and running along the stretches of black when they were able.

They reached halfway.

A breeze entered the room, carrying with it the smell of the sea.

Clara smiled in victory. “Almost there!”

Gwaine smiled too -

Then the doors slammed shut.

And from behind them, they heard a voice.

“Well, I must say this is a surprise.”

Clara stiffened, and Gwaine grit his teeth.

He recognized that voice: it was the same voice that he and Merlin heard when they first entered this retched place.

They all turned around.

And there behind them, Gwaine could see a sorceress wearing a white and black gown, her blonde hair drawn up into a crown of spikes.

Hierna.

Hierna took a step forward. “I admit, I didn’t expect you to make it this far. I almost thought for certain you would get lost in the maze, or that my creatures would do away with you. Had I known how skilled you were, I would have doubled my efforts.”

“Looks like you just underestimated us,” Gwaine growled, already stepping in front of Clara and holding his sword and shield at the ready.

Hierna laughed. “It seems I did. I admit that was clever,” Hierna said, “Choosing the path where you thought a threat remained: I wasn’t expecting that. I was very surprised to find that you had simply passed through the other room, instead of going through the one where I had a great number of creatures waiting for you.”

Gwaine sent a silent thanks to Guiromelant.

“We only want to leave,” Merlin said. “Let us go, and you’ll never hear from us again.”

Hierna laughed. “Do you really think I believe that? And why should I? One person already made it out alive, I think that’s more than enough.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Gwaine responded. “Your reputation will remain in tact.”

“Ah, but _I_ will know.” She then turned to Clara. “Clara, dear, go on back upstairs. I won’t be angry if you do so right now. I’ll even let Gwaine go with you. _And_ the sorcerer if you ask nicely.”

Clara only glared. _“Go to hell.”_

Hierna blinked as if only unamused. Then she closed her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. “Very well. I don’t like getting my hands dirty - I prefer to simply stand by and watch as they fail to make their way to me - but it appears I’ll simply have to make an exception.”

She opened her eyes and lifted a hand -

Merlin lunged forward and shouted a word, beating her to the first strike.

Hierna took the blow, and she staggered backwards. Then she threw out her own hand, and shards of glass materialized around her and flew straight to Merlin.

For several minutes it was the two of them - spell after spell after spell being flung at the other, and spell after spell after spell being used to block or dodge.

Gwaine and Clara rounded the edges of the room, ducking behind pillars and moving silently, both watching the battle for an opening to move in and make an attack of their own.

Clara held Gwaine’s knife tight in her hand, her expression that of cold, angry determination.

They watched the fight, waiting for an opportunity.

_There._

They both bolted forward at the same time.

Hierna turned - clearly caught surprised - but she ducked Clara’s knife, and held up a hand to magically force back Gwaine’s sword.

Gwaine arced his sword and immediately moved back in for an undercut, but Hierna dodged to the side. She threw a spell at Gwaine - it hit his shield and shattered it, and sent him stumbling backwards.

Merlin flung in another spell - it hit Hierna squarely in the chest, and she stumbled back for several feet.

Gwaine regained his bearings, and readied his stance once more behind his sword.

He then noticed Clara had ducked behind a pillar - and Hierna’s hadn’t noticed

Clara moved forward, knife at the ready -

But Hierna turned.

Hierna threw Clara to the side - and she rolled across the floor for several feet, before landing on her back as she tried to regain her breath.

Then Hierna flung another spell at Merlin.

The spell hit Merlin and shoved him into the wall.

“Merlin!” Gwaine cried.

Merlin couldn’t move - bound in place against the wall by what looked like glass. He pulled against it, but when that proved fruitless, he let his eyes flash gold.

He cried out in pain.

Hierna laughed. “That glass absorbs magic! You won’t free yourself from it alone!”

Then she turned to Clara again and swept a hand downwards.

A beam fell from the ceiling - landing on Clara and pinning her to the ground.

“ _Clara!”_ Gwaine screamed, running for her -

“Oh, no, can’t have that.”

Gwaine felt himself magically shoved backwards - he lost his grip on his sword.

He slammed into a pillar, before falling to the ground.

“ _Gwaine!”_ he heard both Clara and Merlin exclaim.

Gwaine tried to push himself up, but his vision was swimming, and he could hear a ringing in his ears.

Then he felt a shove and fell to his back.

Hierna stood over him, her foot pressed to his chest.

She looked over Gwaine, then tilted her head as if considering something. “You got shot in the shoulder, didn’t you?”

Gwaine only had a moment to process that, before she held out her hand and conjured an arrow.

Then she lunged downward - shoving the arrow into the exact same spot he’d been hit in earlier.

Gwaine couldn’t stop the scream of pain that came out.

“Do you want to know _why_ I took your mother all those years ago?” Hierna started. “Oh, it wasn’t without purpose, I assure you.”

She drove the arrow in further, and Gwaine gasped, the edges of his vision going black.

(Clara freed herself from the beam holding her down.)

“Her line is destined to be the one to bear _Strength,”_ Hierna hissed. “Her line is destined to be the one that carries a prophesied warrior of Emrys and the Once and Future King. And _Strength_ is to be my undoing - they are the one who will cause my death. Surely now you must see now why I had to keep her here - to keep her line from ever continuing. Clearly I failed, but I won’t make the same mistake with you three. As soon as you both are dead, I will find Gareth and make sure he faces the same fate. But you, Sir Gwaine, are going to die _right now.”_

“ _Not if I can help it.”_

Clara drove Gwaine’s knife into Hierna’s shoulder.

Hierna lurched up, howling in pain. She rounded to Clara with a sneer. _“Why you little -”_

Gwaine took the opportunity to take the offensive. He swung his legs around, knocking Hierna’s legs out from under her.

He rolled to his feet - vision wavering treacherously - but then he grit his teeth and forced himself to stay up.

He and Clara backed away from Hierna, distancing themselves as much as they could.

Hierna moved back to her feet. She reached over her shoulder and grabbed the knife, before yanking it out.

Then she turned to Gwaine and Clara with a sneer.

Gwaine moved one way, Clara another, separating themselves into two targets.

Hierna’s glare flicked between the two of them, before she held out her hand and sent a fireball at Gwaine.

Gwaine ducked behind a pillar, feeling the heat as he passed him on both sides.

Where did Clara go?

He poked a head around the pillar.

Hierna’s attention was on the other side of the room.

Clara had reached Merlin, and was hacking at the glass around his hand with her knife.

Merlin’s hand broke through.

But Gwaine couldn’t think about that anymore - not when Hierna was readying another spell to attack. He grabbed a piece of tile from the ground, before stepping out from behind the pillar.

“Hey!”

Then he threw the tile at her head.

His aim was true, and Hierna lurched to one side. The percussive shockwave she’d been preparing for Merlin and Clara erupted from her hand, but hit the ceiling and sent more debris showering down on top of her.

Hierna growled, and she turned towards Gwaine with a glare. She laughed wryly. “You are just like your father,” she said. “You don’t know when to stop.”

She advanced to him.

“ _Gwaine!”_ Merlin shouted.

Gwaine glanced to him.

Merlin was free from his glass prison, and in his hand was Gwaine’s sword. He threw it to Gwaine, a flash of gold in his eyes.

Gwaine caught the sword and rounded -

And it hit its mark, the red-stained stained blade now coming out of Hierna’s back.

Hierna stared at Gwaine, as if she was only shocked, before looking down and seeing where the crossguard of the sword was pressed against her abdomen.

“ _This is for my mother,”_ Gwaine sneered.

He pulled the blade free.

Hierna choked, flecks of blood coming from her mouth, and her gaze fixed on Gwaine - looking only as if she didn’t believe what had just happened.

She fell to her knees.

Then to the ground.

Gwaine couldn’t move as he stood over her - his breathing ragged and his heart racing in his chest.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his arm, but it was only Clara. “Is she-?”

Hierna shifted.

Gwaine lifted his sword again, readying himself to continue the fight -

But then Hiera’s body relaxed, and they watched as she too began to turn to ash and drift away on an unfelt breeze.

Then she was gone.

No one moved, staring at the place on the floor with varying degrees of shock.

Gwaine turned to Merlin. They met eyes. They blinked.

“Is that it then?”

They heard a rumble, and felt the floor shift beneath them.

A crack appeared in the wall, and then another. A rock fell from the ceiling and shattered the tiles only a few feet from where Merlin was standing.

“ _Let’s go!”_ Gwaine shouted, grabbing Clara’s hand and bolting towards the door.

Merlin pointed his staff forward and shouted a word, and a shockwave erupted from his staff and completely obliterated the door.

The three of them darted through the now clear doorway, and made for the stairs.

They ran down as fast as they could, dodging rocks that pelted down at them from above. Merlin deflected the larger ones with magic, sending them crashing onto the cliffs below them with loud _cracks._

They reached the bottom.

Guiromelant was waiting for them at the dock.

“Come on, come on,” Guiromelant said, waving them into the boat.

Merlin leapt in, followed by Clara, and then Gwaine.

As soon as Gwaine was in, Merlin pushed out with his magic.

The boat careened away from the dock, a large rock landing in the water where they had only been a moment before.

With Guiromelant and Merlin’s combined power, they made it to other side in only a few moments. They leapt out of the rocking boat and onto the dock.

They turned back to watch.

And from their vantage on the dock, they watched as the final pieces of the castle tumbled and fell into the sea.

Until there was nothing left.

And, just like the wolf and the falcon and Hierna herself, the castle was gone, leaving only a rocky coastline behind.

“She’s gone,” Guiromelant breathed in shock. “She’s dead.”

“So it would seem,” Gwaine said, not looking away from the place where the castle had been only a few moments before.

For several moments, none of them moved.

Gwaine wobbled.

Merlin and Clara caught him.

Gwaine’s breathing was ragged, and he felt light-headed. “Just… sit me down,” he said.

They gently lowered him to the dock. Gwaine’s chainmail and gambeon teleported to somewhere behind him, and Merlin pulled aside the torn underclothes to get to the wound.

“Twice in a day, Gwaine?” Merlin tried to joke, but even he couldn’t keep the worry from his voice. “That’s got to be a record.”

Gwaine chuckled, but he said nothing. His head tipped over to one side.

It landed on a shoulder.

Gwaine twisted to see whose.

Clara held him, her brow pinched in worry. She held him close. She glanced at Merlin. “How bad is it?”

“Worse than before,” he answered, his hand pressed over Gwaine’s wound and his eyes glowing gold. “But I can’t do more without my supplies -”

Merlin’s bag entered his field of view.

He followed the arm to find Guiromelant holding it out.

Merlin nodded in thanks. Guiromelant set it down and pulled back the flap, and small vials began to fly out to hover in Merlin’s vicinity.

Merlin grabbed one, and handed it to Clara. “Get him to drink that,” he said, before grabbing a second vial and dipping his fingers in.

Gwaine wasn’t sure what they did - only that Clara coaxed him to drink something entirely too foul for his tastes, and that Merlin had a singular, golden-eyed focus on his shoulder, his hands constantly working their healing, well, _magic._

But, eventually, Gwaine’s light-headedness and pain began to abate, and he took in several deep breaths.

His eyes focused on Merlin, who was smiling in relief. “I’ll have to change your bandages again regularly, and Gaius will probably want to check once we’re back, but you’re in the clear.”

Gwaine smiled, albeit tiredly. “That’s good to hear.”

Merlin and Clara stood up. Merlin held out his hand. Gwaine gave Merlin his good arm, and he pulled himself to a stand while Clara helped with her hands to his ribs.

A wave of vertigo ran over him once he was up, but with Merlin and Clara’s support, he didn’t fall, and it passed within a few moments.

He smiled and nodded at Merlin.

Merlin matched it, before turning to Guiromelant. He looked him over, brow furling. “You said Hierna’s curse kept you to the boat.”

Guiromelant nodded. “That’s right.”

“Now that she’s dead, I imagine it’s broken. What do you plan to do now?”

Guiromelant blinked, eyes wide in realization and shock. He thought for a moment, before glancing over at Clara and Gwaine. “… I wish to find my own family,” Guiromelant said. “I’d lost hope I’d get to see them again.”

Merlin smiled. “I wish you luck on your journey.”

Guiromelant smiled. “And I the same to you, Emrys.”

Merlin recoiled a bit. He stuttered as he tried to respond.

But Guiromelant said nothing further on that matter. He held out his hand and to Clara’s and took hers, and lifted her hand to his lips to kiss her fingers. “It was an honor to meet you, Lady Clarissant,” Guiromelant said. “Perhaps someday we might meet again.”

Clara smiled. “I’d like that.”

Guiromelant gave her another smile, nodded at Gwaine and then Merlin, before he turned and began to climb up the rocks to reach the top of the cliffs.

Merlin quickly retrieved Gwaine’s bag, also grabbing Gwaine’s chainmail and gambeson and making sure they were packed in as well. Merlin asked as he handed it back over, “You ready?”

Gwaine nodded. He turned to Clara with a smile, and she smiled too.

“Let’s go home.”

~

Several hours later found Gwaine, Clara, and Merlin at a small camp, with a fire crackling in the middle and providing the only light other than the stars. They had retrieved their horses and gotten a distance away from the ocean, the forest blissfully quiet and free from the sound of the sea. Clara sat across from Gwaine and Merlin, where Merlin was attempting to rewrap a bandage around Gwaine’s doubly injured shoulder after changing to fresh ones, Gwaine hissing and grunting with each tug and movement.

“Stop grumbling,” Merlin scolded. “You complaining isn’t going to make this hurt less.”

Gwaine chuckled. “Sorry,” he said.

Merlin smirked a bit, before his expression once more fell to concentration as he wove the bandage around Gwaine’s shoulder. But then he pulled a final knot, and examined it for several more moments before nodding in satisfaction.

He held out a hand. “Let me see your hand.”

Gwaine placed his hand gently in Merlin’s, and Merlin began to unwrap the strip of the gambeson from it.

Merlin was silent once more as he treated Gwaine’s hand, small flashes of gold removing the pieces of glass that were still there, and Gwaine admirably keeping himself from hissing in pain. Gwaine didn’t speak, too lost in thought over what had just happened and trying to make sense of it.

But then Gwaine sighed. “Merlin,” he started.

“Yes?”

“Do you know what happened back there? She said that… _Strength_ was to be the one to kill her. But now she’s dead and I did it. I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Merlin paused. Then he laughed a bit as a smile came to his face. He looked up to meet Gwaine’s eyes. _“You’re_ Strength, Gwaine.”

“What about my strength?”

“What - _no,_ I meant… _you_ are Strength, Gwaine. _Strength_ is the name of the prophesied warrior, like she said, and _you_ are he.”

“Wha- _me?”_

Merlin nodded, still smiling at him. “In her efforts to stop Strength from being born, she led to it. If she had never kidnapped your mother… well, I can’t say that your parents never would have met, but we’ll never know. Because of what Hierna did, a knight rescued a lady, and they a daughter, and then a son. A son, who is also known as _Strength._ It’s not the first time you’ve heard it either: you remember the bridgekeeper into the Perilous Lands, right?”

“That I do.”

“Do you remember what he said to you?”

Gwaine thought for a moment.

Then he huffed a laugh. _“’Strength_ has arrived.’ _Now_ I finally understand what he meant by that.” Gwaine’s brow furled. “But… she said Strength was to be the warrior of… what was it, the Once in Future King? And some other bloke?”

“Once _and_ Future King… and Emrys,” Merlin finished, his expression suddenly becoming uncertain. He looked down to Gwaine’s hand again and began to wrap it in a clean bandage.

“Yeah, well… who are they?”

Merlin took in a breath. He didn’t meet Gwaine’s gaze. “Well. _Arthur_ is the Once and Future King. Emrys is said to be the sorcerer who will help him to create one of the greatest kingdoms the world has ever known. And it’s not like Arthur knows many sorcerers, is it? And, erm,” Merlin cleared his throat. “Do you remember what I told Guiromelant that the Druids call me?”

Gwaine stopped. _“You? You’re_ Emrys?”

Merlin forced a smile. He looked up at Gwaine. _“Surprise.”_

Gwaine’s brow furled. “Do… do _all_ sorcerers have a special name among the Druids?”

“Er, no. Just me.”

“Really? Why?”

“I, um. The prophecy also says that Emrys is their savior - and the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the Earth.”

Gwaine blinked. He turned and stared into the fire, trying to process what had just been revealed to him. Finally, he said, very eloquently, “Wow.”

Merlin laughed a bit. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me, mate.” He turned to Merlin again. “These prophecies seem like a big deal.”

Merlin shrugged, as if he hadn’t just given Gwaine all this life-changing information. “It… it gave me a purpose. Before I came to Camelot… I had all this magic but I didn’t know _why,_ but now I do. But it’s not just me.” He looked up to meet Gwaine’s gaze again. “We all have our part in it - you, me, Arthur, Gwen - everyone we know, I imagine. _You’re_ the Strength in _Courage, Strength, and Magic,_ and your destiny is to become one of Arthur’s greatest warriors.”

Gwaine blinked at Merlin once more, still trying to take this all in. Then he smirked. “Well, I say if I get to be _your_ warrior too, this doesn’t sound like too bad a deal.”

Merlin laughed at that. Before smiling and nodding. “And I will be honored to have you by my side, Sir Gwaine.”

Merlin finished tying the new bandage around Gwaine’s hand, before nodding to himself in satisfaction and looking up at Gwaine with a grin.

Gwaine smirked a bit and nodded in thanks.

But then it fell and he looked at Clara.

Clara was still silent, only staring into the fire with an expression so lost in thought Gwaine wasn’t entirely sure she was still _awake._

Gwaine turned to Merlin and tipped his head towards her with an expression he hoped Merlin would understand.

_Can I talk to her alone?_

Merlin mouthed a silent _ah,_ before he nodded. He stood.

“I’ll… get some more firewood.”

Gwaine smirked a bit at Merlin’s excuse - glancing at the fire that he knew would last to morning and the small pile of unused wood next to it - but he nodded at Merlin. “Don’t go too far now.”

Merlin smirked, before he headed off into the dark woods, leaving Gwaine and Clara alone.

The silence was tense. Now that they were free from danger… what happened now? Was Clara still angry at him for what he had done? Now that she was free, was she going to find Gareth, before the two of them went somewhere on their own without Gwaine again? What did Clara believe Gwaine felt towards her?

But, regardless, Gwaine knew there was something that needed to be said - something that was long overdue.

“I’m sorry,” Gwaine said. “I should have listened to you - I never should have resorted to what I did -”

“No,” Clara interrupted. “Don’t apologize. You were only trying to take care of us. I never… I never should have said what I did to you. It was out of line. And I’ve regretted it every day since. I truly am very sorry.”

Gwaine blinked in surprise, struck silent.

“… I thought of you every day, Gwaine,” Clara continued. “I’d wondered where you’d gone, and if you were okay. I couldn’t help but fear that you left home and had gotten killed because of me.”

“… I thought of you every day too,” Gwaine said. “There were a couple times I tried to go home… but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me. If you wanted me back at all.”

Clara looked surprised. Her eyes softened. She sighed. “I would have always welcomed you home. I’m just sorry that I drove you away in the first place.”

They fell into a silence for a few moments, each staring at the fire and lost in their own thoughts.

Then Clara took in a breath. “What do we do now?”

“Well,” Gwaine started. He flicked his hair from his face. “I imagine we first take you to Camelot and find Gareth - but after that I think it’s up to you and Gareth what you do.”

“Would you come with us if we went back to Caerleon?”

Gwaine shook his head. “My home is in Camelot now.” He then smirked a bit. “You heard Merlin: apparently I am to help Arthur bring about a Golden Age of Albion. I can’t abandon them after he told me all that, can I? But if you and Gareth do decide to back to Caerleon, I promise I’ll be sure to visit.”

Clara smiled too. “I’d like that.”

They were silent for a moment longer, before Gwaine glanced at the sky and took note of how late it had gotten.

“Get some rest,” Gwaine said. He stood and began to step out of the camp. “I’ll find Merlin, then take first watch. If all goes well, we should reach Camelot the day after tomorrow.”

“Gwaine?”

Gwaine turned back. “Yeah?”

“… thank you,” Clara said. She looked up. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“You’re my sister. I wasn’t going to leave you there.”

Clara smiled, watery. She took in a breath. “Mother would be proud of you - of the man you’ve become. I mean that.”

Gwaine blinked at her, but then a matching smile came to his face. He nodded at his sister - the woman who had taken care of Gareth when Gwaine didn’t, and who always wanted to do what was right.

“She’d be proud of you, too.”

And he meant it.

~

It’d been nearly a week since Gwaine and Merlin had disappeared.

Gareth stood by a window that overlooked the courtyard, gripping his arms in front of him and his eyes fixed on the gate.

He’d come to know the schedule of Camelot’s patrols very well over the last week, watching them return from their rounds, morning, noon, and night, before repeating again the next day. He’d come to know the people of Camelot, from watching them come and leave and go about their own lives.

But, no matter how long he sat by the window, no wayward knight or manservant came through as well.

He heard steps behind him. “No sign of them?”

Gareth shook his head. “Nothing.”

He heard Sir Percival sigh, before putting a hand to Gareth’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon - your brother’s one of the best fighters I know, and he’s not one to give up easily. Neither is Merlin, for that matter.”

Gareth sighed, his head dropping and his shoulders slumping. “… I just got him back, Sir Percival,” he said quietly, voice wavering. “I’m not sure I can handle losing him again after losing Clara.”

Percival didn’t move for a moment, before he stepped forward and tucked his arms around Gareth’s shoulder and pulled him to his side.

For several minutes, neither of them moved or spoke. Gareth may have recovered from his physical exhaustion, but it had been replaced by mental exhaustion - first finally having time to process that Clara was still trapped, and then finding and losing Gwaine again within the span of only a day.

_Be back soon,_ Gwaine’s last note had said.

But… how long was _soon_ going to be? And would he even come back at all?

Percival then suddenly stiffened at Gareth’s side.

“Gareth, look!”

Gareth’s head jerked up.

Then he was running down the halls to the front entrance as quickly as he could. He dodged a couple servants - shouting apologies over his shoulder - before erupting from the doors and into the courtyard.

There were two horses and three people. Merlin on one horse, Gwaine walking by them, and on the second horse -

Gareth ran down the stairs. “Clara! Gwaine!”

“Gareth? Gareth!” Clara cried, jumping off the horse and landing on the cobblestones. She ran straight to Gareth and was the first one to him, embracing him tightly.

They held each other for a moment, before Clara leaned back, looking Gareth over for any injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she demanded.

“I should be asking _you_ that,” Gareth protested. He was clearly trying to make a joke, but his voice cracked and a couple tears spilled over. He forced a laugh, but then he lunged forward and hugged Clara again, holding her tight as he shook with sobs of relief. _“You’re okay - you’re okay.”_

Gwaine hovered awkwardly to the side, looking lost as he watched his siblings reunite.

Clara, held Gareth tightly for several moments, before he took in a couple deep breaths. He lifted his head and gave her a shaky smile, before he turned to look at Gwaine.

Gwaine smiled too, albeit much more uneasily, “Hey -”

Gareth bolted forward and hugged him too.

Gwaine blinked. “- Reth.”

Gwaine didn’t move for a moment, and his eyes widened further as Gareth’s sobs picked up again.

“ _I’m glad you’re okay. Thank you for coming back.”_

Gwaine took in a short breath, before he too, gave Gareth a tight hug. He said, “I’m never leaving you again if I have my way.”

Gwaine looked up at Clara.

She then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the two of them.

Clara said through a laugh, “I’ve got both my little brothers again.”

Gwaine barked a watery laugh. “We’re both taller than you, Clara,” he said. But then he took in a shaking breath and held Gareth a little tighter while placing a quick kiss to Clara’s head.

To their side, Percival turned to Merlin. “I’ll go tell the others you’re back,” Percival said, before turning back to the stairs.

Merlin nodded and thanked him, before turning back to Gwaine and his siblings.

They had separated from their hug, and it looked like Gareth was explaining to Clara what had happened to him after they got separated.

Gwaine’s expression was odd - a mix of a smile and yet looking on the verge of tears - and it took a moment before Merlin could decipher it.

Then he took in a short breath once he realized.

Gwaine looked as if he had finally found something he dearly missed that he thought he had lost forever - and couldn’t believe he had it back.

“ _Merlin! Sir Gwaine!”_

Everyone looked to the stairs to see Arthur descending, his expression far from amused.

“ _Where_ have the two of you been?! Guinevere’s been worried sick! Gaius didn’t know where you’d gone; you didn’t even tell _Gareth_ where you were going and I’m starting to doubt whether he’s actually your brother if you don’t bother to tell _him_ where you’re going.”

“Sorry, Arthur,” Merlin muttered while Gwaine muttered a “Sorry, sire.”

Arthur stared at them with a clear look of disapproval. Then his eyes widened as he saw the new scars on Merlin’s cheek, and the bandages poking out around Gwaine’s shoulder and on his hand. “Not to mention you’re both _injured!_ And Gwaine! What on _Earth_ happened to your cloak?! What happened? Where did you… go…”

It was then Arthur seemed to notice the newcomer in the courtyard, and he stopped. His gaze jumped between Merlin, Gwaine, Gareth, and Clara multiple times, before he looked to Gwaine, agog. He held out a hand to indicate to Clara.

“Is this…?”

Gwaine took in a breath. He nodded. “Sire, I would like you to meet my sister,” he said, putting a gentle arm around Clara’s shoulders. “The Lady Clarissant.”

Arthur reached a hand to Clara and took hers in both of his. “Welcome to Camelot. It’s an honor to have you here. I’m relieved Gwaine was able to return safely with you.”

Clara smiled a bit. “Thank you, your majesty. And thank for hosting Gareth.”

Arthur gave her that welcoming smile for another moment. Then his eyes widened in shock - as if he just realized something. “Wait. _Lady?”_

“Yes, your majesty,” Clara began. She glanced and Gwaine, and when he didn’t do anything to discourage her, she continued, “I am the daughter of Lady Anna and Sir Loth of Caerleon.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. Then his expression went through numerous emotions - disbelief, anger, denial - before finally settling on cool unamusement. An expression he immediately turned to Gwaine.

“ _Lady_ Anna and _Sir_ Loth,” he stated.

Gwaine grimaced and inhaled through his teeth. “Yeah.”

“Your _sister_ is a _lady.”_

“That she is.”

“You have the same parents.”

“That’s usually how siblings work, yeah.”

“So does that mean you’re a _noble?”_

“I suppose, technically speaking, I am.”

Arthur then sputtered for several seconds. “You - you - _you never said!”_

Gwaine cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, you never asked if my parents _weren’t_ nobility. You just assumed.”

“You didn’t think it was important to mention?!”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh, well, at least _Merlin_ is surprised by this too, isn’t he?”

“Um, actually,” Merlin spoke up.

Arthur turned to him in askance.

Merlin at least had the decency to look meek. He scratched the back of his head. “I’ve known pretty much for as long as we’ve known him.”

Arthur blinked at him. Before covering his face with his hands, the very image of defeat. “I don’t believe this.”

Clara looked horrified at this exchange, her gaze jumping between Gwaine and the king.

Gareth looked _delighted._

“This is how he usually acts around us,” Gwaine whispered to his siblings conspiratorially.

“He just knows if the two of us are together he’s going to get a headache,” Merlin supplied.

Arthur groaned, “Merlin, Gwaine.”

“Shut up?” they both questioned in tandem.

“Shut up.”

~

The next four months were an interesting adjustment for Gwaine and his family.

Even though they had been living on their own before Hierna found and taken them, they had accepted Arthur and Gwen’s offer to live in Camelot’s citadel and join the court there. They moved kingdoms with nothing but the clothes on their back and each other. But Gwaine stuck by them through it all, introducing them to the castle and the town, and helping them adjust to their new lives. Clara quickly inserted herself into the court, matching Gwaine’s reputation for stubbornness and loud laughter.

And Gareth was making excellent progress as one of Camelot’s newest squires.

Of course, when Gwaine had asked if he could be the one to mentor Gareth, Arthur had refused.

“ _Absolutely not,”_ he had said. _“I am_ not _letting your brother be your squire. Putting the two of you together is just a disaster waiting to happen. Which is why I am assigning him to Percival instead.”_

What Arthur _hadn’t_ expected, was that putting Percival and Gareth together as knight and squire didn’t reduce the amount of mischief they got up to at all.

If anything, it added to it, as now Percival, Gwaine, Gareth, and Merlin all got up to all sorts of pranks together.

Oh yes, Percival did take his duties as Gareth’s mentor very seriously, considering it a great honor and often helping Gareth perfect his sword technique and his tracking skills in the forest.

But that didn’t mean Percival couldn’t also sprinkle in lessons on how best to steal food from the kitchens or how to prop a bucket on a door so its contents dump on someone right alongside the lessons that were more traditional for learning to be a knight.

For Gwaine, it was strange to have his siblings close again. To be able to seek them out and find them within a few minutes, and to know that they would be _glad_ to see him. For years he had feared that any attempt to reach out to them would be met with vitriol, but now that fear and regret was gone, and if anyone noticed that his laugh was a little brighter and that his shoulders seemed a little lighter, well, no one considered that a bad thing. 

The Round Table took the news in stride - and gave him the title of _honorary_ _peasant._ A title he now shared with Leon, who had been trying not to fall over from laughter when Percival, Elyan, and Merlin had gracefully bestowed the title upon an uncooperative Gwaine.

_(”Don’t worry, Gwaine,”_ Leon had said, failing to keep back a smile, while Gwaine had brushed the  _“ceremonial rose petals”_ from his shoulders.  _“I’ll make sure you know how to handle it.”)_

Merlin had had a period of adjustment too. He’d gone from only Gaius knowing of his magic, to suddenly Gwaine _and_ Clara knowing as well. Clara swore she wouldn’t tell anyone, and Gwaine only reiterated his vow that he would remain silent on the matter as well. However, he insisted that Merlin came to him for help if he ever needs it, and that he finally tells Gwaine all the great feats he had accomplished without the others’ knowledge.

Winter arrived in Camelot with a soft sigh, covering the land in a soft blanket of white snow, and with it came excitement for the holidays - and the _Round Table’s_ small gift exchange.

But this time, with two new names thrown into the mix.

They had drawn names a month before for the central exchange (though undoubtedly more gifts would be given out later - Merlin had already walked in on Arthur trying to arrange a brand new, lavish gown in Gwen’s favorite color, and had found Gwen working on a book that was filled with small mementos Arthur had given her over the years), and finally, they found themselves in Arthur and Gwen’s receiving room after the Yule feast, chairs in a circle and various parcels and bags set to their sides.

Arthur had already given Percival his present: a small, finely crafted flute. Percival had accepted it with an awed smile, having mentioned in the past that he had loved to play for his family and often missed being able to play again.

Merlin had given Elyan a blank, leather-bound journal alongside a new ink and quill set, explaining that since Elyan was beginning to experiment and invent his own things in the forge, it would be a good place to write everything down and come up with new ideas.

Leon had given Gwen a new hair piece with a golden acorn design, referencing the old oak tree they used to talk by when they were children. Gwen twisted up her hair and placed it in, before reaching down to her side and grabbing her gift to give.

“And here is yours, Gwaine,” Gwen said, handing over a small wrapped parcel. “I hope you enjoy it.”

Gwaine nodded in thanks as he took it. It was tall, skinny, and cylindrical, and Gwaine smirked as he undid the twine and pulled down the paper to find a bottle of ale. “Thanks, Gwen. What kind is it?”

Gwen smiled. _“That,_ is Miriam’s Mabon Special Ale.”

Gwaine looked up in elated disbelief. _“No.”_

Gwen’s grin widened. “Yes it is - I overheard you tell her that it was your favorite, so I asked her if she could make another bottle just for you.”

Gwaine blinked at her, before a wide grin crossed his face as he examined the bottle once more. Then he looked up to her with a smile. “Thank you, Gwen,” he said while offering a hug.

Gwen took it with a laugh. “You are very welcome, Gwaine.”

It was Elyan’s turn next. He reached to his side and picked up a something several feet long, but skinny and slender.

“For my favorite brother-in-law,” Elyan said with a grin as he handed it to Arthur.

Arthur laughed as he took it, but he nodded in thanks and removed the linen cloth it had been wrapped in.

It was a sheathe, intricately designed with gold accents and small gemstones. Arthur’s eyes were wide in awe as he looked it over. “Thank you, Elyan.”

“It’s a scabbard just for Excalibur,” Elyan said. “A sword that beautiful needs a sheathe just as nice.”

Arthur nodded, still taking in the scabbard with an elated an awed expression, before setting it aside with another thank you to Elyan. He then asked if someone would like to go next.

Percival raised his hand, before grabbing a small wrapped object from his side.

He handed it to Gareth with a smile. “For the best squire.”

Gareth unwrapped it to find a small dagger, with a handle engraved with vines and leaves.

“Elyan helped me make that one myself,” Percival said. “And I think it’s a good start to your own collection - since you’re becoming a knight.”

Gwaine sat up. “Hold it up for a second, yeah?”

Gareth did, showing Gwaine the intricately designed handle and the short blade.

Gwaine grinned. “Perfect size to fit into your boot.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Of course you would say that, Gwaine.”

“Oi!” Gwaine protested. He jabbed a finger at Arthur. “Respect the boot-knife, Arthur. You’ll never know when you need it. Clara saved my life because of mine, if you recall.”

Arthur huffed. _“Very well_. I won’t disregard the _boot-knife_ so quickly in the future.” 

The others laughed, and Gwaine smirked as Gareth quickly slid the knife into his boot, before looking up at Gwaine with a mischievous grin.

Gareth then glanced around. “Shall I go-?” When no one protested, he grabbed a bundle from his side, before standing and rushing across the room to Leon.

Gareth meekly handed over his present to Leon. “Percival said you would like it,” he said quickly, before rushing back over to his seat.

Leon laughed good-naturedly. “I’m sure as long as Gwaine didn’t convince you to prank me, I’ll love it,” he said. And sure enough, when he pulled back the paper he found a book on the history of Rome, complete with many of their myths and legends.

Merlin received a book, too, from Clara. It was a bit beaten, with notes in the margins and a leaf on the front

“It’s a book of remedies,” Clara said. “Although, I will say that there are some… _unusual_ ones that I’m not sure you’d be able to easily find in Camelot. The original owner made many notes on how to improve the remedies.”

Merlin looked up at Clara, brow furled. Then he gave her a knowing smile and a nod. “I’m sure I’ll find use for them.”

Clara smiled as well, before she looked around. “I believe I’m the last one-?”

Gwaine nodded, and he bent to his side and picked up a small linen bag. He held it out to her with a grin. “I had you, my dear sister.”

Clara took it with a roll of her eyes. But then she undid the twine holding the bag closed and reached inside.

She pulled a small wooden box with, with flowers engraved onto the sides, and a couple drawers with pearl handles.

“It’s a jewelry box. Nicest one I could afford,” Gwaine said. “Since I know you lost yours when Hierna took you.”

Clara looked it over, running her fingers over the engravings, before she turned to Gwaine with a smile. “Thank you.”

Gwaine smiled in return.

Arthur then glanced around. “That’s everyone, correct?”

Gwaine groaned. “Dammit, Arthur, you forgot Galahad.”

Arthur blinked at him. “Who in the hell is Galahad?”

Gwaine faked offense. “Only the most important member of us all! How could you forget him?!”

Merlin scoffed as well. “Really, Arthur? You forgot Galahad? On _Yule?”_

Arthur stuttered for a moment, and Gwaine watched in satisfaction as Arthur’s expression became uncertain, as if he was starting to question if he really had forgotten someone, and he quickly glanced around at the group.

Gwen rolled her eyes - but she was plainly trying to keep back a smile - before leaning in. “They’re just messing with you, Arthur.”

Arthur blinked at her, before he visibly slumped in relief. He then glared at Gwaine. “Thanks for that.”

Gwaine smirked. “You’re welcome, sire.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, before turning to Gwen to ask her something.

Gwaine turned back to Clara.

She was sitting quietly, watching everyone else begin to chat amongst themselves with a small smile.

Gwaine nudged her arm with his shoulder, drawing her attention to him.

He nodded to the box. “… there’s something in it, too.”

Clara blinked at Gwaine in confusion, before she looked down at the box and opened it. She pulled out a small velvet pouch, and emptied the contents onto her hand.

She took in a short breath.

“Is this-?”

“Mother’s wedding ring,” Gwaine confirmed quietly. He smirked wryly. “She wanted you to have it, and I figured it was about time I gave it back.”

Clara blinked at it for a moment, before closing her fist around it. She brought her closed fist to her mouth, before turning to Gwaine. She didn’t say anything, but the smile on her face made it clear how much it meant to her.

Gwaine tipped his head again. “There’s something in there for Gareth, too. Check the bottom drawer.”

Clara opened it and found a second velvet pouch. She got Gareth’s attention, before she leaned over to Gareth and handed it to him.

Gareth smiled - albeit a touch confused - and thanked Gwaine, before he opened it. He blinked in surprise, and pulled out a necklace with a silver charm on the end.

“That was technically Clara’s and I’s father’s - Loth’s,” Gwaine said, “But mother -”

“Mother used to wear it everyday,” Gareth said in awe. He let a watery laugh. He looked up to meet Gwaine’s eyes. “I remember that.”

Gwaine suddenly felt a little choked up. But then he nodded with a small smile.

Gareth smiled at him for a moment longer, before he undid the clasp and put it around his own neck. Gareth picked up the charm and examined it for a moment, before he stood and walked over to Gwaine. “Thank you, Gwaine.”

Gwaine gave his little brother a hug. “You are very welcome, Reth. Happy Yule,” he said.

Gareth leaned back with a smile - still teared up a bit - but then he decided he wanted to look at Arthur’s new scabbard and headed over to the king to take a look.

To Gwaine’s side, Merlin and Gwen had begun talking and laughing, and to his other he could hear Clara and Leon start to discuss something. Arthur was showing the scabbard to Gareth, and Percival was talking to Elyan about how he first learned to play the flute. In all, the room was filled with a gentle lull of conversation, with a easy and relaxed air.

Gwaine’s eyes began to burn.

Merlin then turned to Gwaine, laughing a bit at something Gwen had said.

But then his smile fell. “Gwaine,” he started, voice dropping and leaning in towards him. “Are you alright?”

And Gwaine just gave him a watery smile. “I’ve got my whole family here with me, Merlin,” he said as he gestured to everyone sitting around with them - Arthur, Gwen, Clara, Gareth, Leon, Elyan, Percival - before turning back to him. He let out a watery laugh. “This is the best I’ve been in years.”

Merlin blinked, before a soft, rueful smile came to his face. He leaned in to give Gwaine a hug.

Gwaine returned it, smiling and his heart light.

“Happy Yule, Merlin.”

“Happy Yule, Gwaine.”


End file.
